I write for the troubled young boys and girls
With shattered dreams
And broken homes
Those who depend on the streets to raise them
Guns to train them
And Friends to tame them
I write because I can
Because writing means speaking up
Though speaking up does not mean being heard
I am heard!
I am heard because of the echoes in my poetry
That travels like the speed of light
And flashes through the ears of a crowd like thunder storms upon a growing city.
I write for the teenage girl in high school
Who uses sex as an excuse to grow-up and reach adult hood
Who later will realize that the only growing being done
Is the feeling of a growing child in the womb of her belly
And the young boy who has no intentions of being a father
Because well…where was his father?
I write because my dreams are as big as Dr. Kings
When he marched through the streets of Birmingham
And as strong as Rosa Parks
When standing up for her right meant being seated
I write because writing means telling
And telling means showing
And showing is believing.