From the Tree, I Branch...

My mind's  mixed
with a mish-mash
of the  mental's
memory n' myth...

so accustomed
to having been fed
a diet of  an 'adjusted
'HIS-story' that bullshit

N' no I'm not cryin'
'bout denyin' the past bit
but I look  back to get pass it

Eye, steady frame
hair triggered, my sights
that appear too far out
of flight's  aim...

Yet, diligent as ever
to always  stake claim
to my birth's right...

A branch off of the family's
tree, my name wasn't born
into riches, yet I pitch this  
vyin' to being a Wise one,
I'm my momma's son
though the others may point
a finger at what I'm lackin'
I won't ever run...

and still, without parental guidance   to provide us with hope n' possibilities, within 'crapshoot's reality because, who knows of the effect if when 'our fruit'  bared, it'd  be ripe when plucked from the tree?
Written by Poetikmind (_---_)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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