Where Does It Begin?

Who knows where to start.
That boy died the day he entered those Halls.
Reborn in the arms of Angels he thought he’d never witness,
Yet,
In front of him were a Trinity of acceptance.
A renewed hope found through a vision different from what I was presented.
As an adolescent looking for a way out of that cage of Sorrow my soul was imprisoned in…

But,
A perfect student?
I was not.
Coming from The Bronx,
Not many of us knew anything besides pain or handling a rock.
Whether it was in the courts,
Or,
The corner where you laid low and rose your stock.
Flowered by parents who would beat and look you in the face wishing you could rot.
Abandoned by a Father who clearly chose change,
Over sticking by the only son he’s got…

So rough in the home of Hip Hop.
Where you get got!
If you wrap your head around too many thoughts on how to wreck shop.
And,
They pulled me from the Plank.
Into a classroom full of students like me with an empty pen pad,
Looking for a friend to be your right-hand man.
Introducing me to what I found so illusory,
In a set of eyes only shown how to stare down jewelery,
Rather than a future we…
Often don’t really get to see,
Unless you’re fed with a silver spoon to keep…

Just a reason I’m heaving up words that’ll never deplete from a mind that was seeded with love.
Endowed with anomalous ways to paint a sentence into pictures you flush.
Your pupils with any time you feel bit by the dust…
Even if,
All I want to ask them is,
What did I do that made them,
Run?

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