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there is a rose in a concrete garden
a Black rose grows in a concrete garden
in air sometimes thick with despair
polluted city in a world that doesn’t care — like she does
the all to endure, lonely nights and endless wars — is a lot
yet she gives it everything shes got
despite what the world is and is not
she blooms through the cracks of slabbed streets
weathers heavy footsteps and broken heartbeats
born in a storm of higher love, chaos and melancholy
deep thinking, daydreaming
a reflection and a reimagining — of the all that she sees
swaying left and right to her own melody
a student of life and every Hip-Hop Soul beat
flooding the streets with mad love composed of Poetry
the rain pours its hours into precious slum flowers
quenched and refreshed, the dramas redressed
her petals crown her in grit and glory as she rests
Black rose, in a love affair with every Queen Bee and Soul King
deep affection for the perfection of every hue of brown skin
breathing the…
