Jackson and Pulaski
From which many weeds grew
These weeds beared the fruit of their labor
Within the next generation of seeds

3944
concrete lines
From which we grew
But we weren’t weeds
You labeled it a ghetto concrete line
We labeled it an acre of dreams
Even if our soil was a pebble
And our water whatever leaked
And our sunlight the few beams that escaped between the trees leafs
In this concrete line we grew beautifully

3944 W Jackson
concrete line… of success
Where weeds grew
But roses, daylilies, and tulips did too

From nothing absolutely nothing
But this dirty cricked
Line of concrete
Did a garden of such beauty
Grow so beautiful

So if I’m ghetto
Because I was planted and grown in concrete instead of fertile soil
Yet I grew as or even more beautiful than those of fertile soil
Let me be ghetto
For I am a…
concrete flower
With roots entrapped in ghetto cement
But pedals encaptured in dreams, hopes, and ambitions
With potential pollinating my air

concrete flower
Stuck between concrete blocks
Threatened to be yanked by the roots
Just because I decide to grow outside
These weed expectancies

Urban Concrete Flower
With Delicate Pedals
Enduring
Fighting a battle to grow
In this cement, this concrete
That has been constantly neglected
Constantly walked upon
The struggle to grow from concrete
Set up for failure
Yet I still endure
Bugs of bad influence
Constantly surround me
With intentions to make me wilt
With roots encaptured in the pavement
There’s never an escape
Bees trying to give me the buzz
When all I desire is fresh air
Instead of this heaviness we inhale

Where weeds grow and go with the season
But I’ve endured
Hot summers of gang violence
Heat waves of teen pregnancy
The drought of drugs
That has uprooted
Weeds from our concrete
I’ve endured
Because I was pollinated with change
Pollinated with success aspirations
Pollinated with the desire
To see this and the next generation of seeds
Not to meet society’s expectations
But to grow higher
And acquire the world
Because we know it’s ours

I was pollinated
With determination
To see the same beauty grown in me
Implanted in the future generations

But I stay rooted in concrete
Worthless
Being told
Maybe the hope of beautiful flowers growing from concrete was unrealistic
Maybe I lied to myself
Trying to prove I’m above their words
But never do succeed
Trying to grow a tulip but becoming a weed
False
Just because I appeared a tulip
I had the roots of weeds
And maybe in fact I am no better
I cry because I’m so frustrated
Wanting to scream
But no noise ever escaped
For I am strangled by the roots of weeds
Trying to take my water
Trying to still my sunshine
All the negativity slices my heart
At a rapid rate in which I cannot heal myself fast enough
I cry because I’m seen worthless by the ones who should value me the most
Words cut deeper than swords
And I wish yall would learn to wield your tongues
Instead of thrashing and breaking my blooming spirit
With mouths that act as guns
It takes nothing to shoot me down
Yet I still rise
And you view me weak
Just because I cry

At times, I wilt because weeds outnumber me
Only one person stands by me
My nana is the only one who believes in me
And my concrete

The rest?
They await my failure
As a groom awaits his bride at the alter
They eagerly wait in the aisles
For me to marry my defeat
But I’ve never been submissive to such marital arrangements

Value me
As I continue to grow
concrete flower
Westside produce of Chicago
Don’t take my water
Don’t steal my sunshine
All I ask is society don’t pick me
And these weeds don’t kill me

Jackson and Pulaski
concrete line
concrete success
I am that
concrete flower
That only a few have achieved
And in the words of Tupac Shakur
Long live the rose that grew from concrete