Reflect on 4

gun slinger like she

flowering, blossiming child of the cedar tree

i was - 

concious, forming, melting, still converting

my sad stagnant, diluted raptured reveries.

you see- 

my pre-teens consisted of stale ciggies and methamphetamines

i stood completely 

immersed by the fleeting

feeling of lost hope and what i shouldn't have seen.

always far off from what i was known to be a public enemy

@ age 14

already a confused and languished entity

Done and Diminished, i was tossed to the breeze

damn. i stayed rollin and yet i was so sick

of those court hearings and the precinct



i remained a self destructive child

burger king pimps, lost bus tix and gettin wild

all the while

searching for my quick fix

hittin licks

giving prints

while i slipped neath labels 

like addict 

and faggot.

wings clipped

should i succumb and exist,

under notions that i would never be or even close to perfect

but thats not what truly spilt this:

twas the perception of being wholly and fully forsaken


with false desire, optimism and expectations


from my reality

so in cuffs i be

conversing with the N.A cuz delinquincey 

literally flourishes

in at least one branch of my familys tree. 

perhaps you


planted here 



Same grove, Same soil, Same pesticide

We Breathed

same spoilt fruit drops

and Rots

here beside Our feet. 

and maybe like me, the answers never came so easily

and suddenly

you no longer found comfort in a single, simple, glowing bowl

searching desperately

they told you of- that self control

askin questions like " have you lost your innner vibe, have you lost your entire whole?"


as i once did. not knowing where to Go

have you found yourself groping in the dark, for a complete and beating home?

its Been Time to let go,

of all that self hate

and lacerate

all those toxic, twisiting ties w/ the undertow

well, who'd've known 

that we were determined to break our own

status quo 

and emerge victorious from those purple bleeding shadows

well contrary to popular belief

and yet again, perhaps our stories shall remain in sync

i was not saved by a Miracle Or An Epiphany

no choir sang as i emerged from underneath

my misery

no shining light,

no crowing glory

no Insta-Love

no bright BluE morning

Swarming, With Warnings

Accrding to the Coursing

Fear Absorbing 

Through Every Pore

and i found Myself Sorting

through Every Memory

I tried Ignoring.



let me tell you one thing

we hear tales of those who are strong and courageous, 

celebrated with designated days 

stories passed through the generations

but very seldom do we hear that being brave

does not occur over a course of a couple of days

it takes time to embrace

what we've been taught to hate

and it take energy, if you aint ready than thats more than o.k

i'd rather have you flourishing on your own hour and in your own way

and despite what they all say.

You Are





Outstanding and Incredible

Breathtaking, Supernatural

Delirious they may call Us.

but they stay enamored by our stardust

Bless Up. 


This poem is about: 
My community


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741