New week. New poem for Black History Month. Interested in purchasing a poem or a book?
American Hurt https://amzn.to/2U50UhB
Return to Sender https://amzn.to/31A3PCX

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We are our ancestors wildest dreams as we grow where we are planted even in the garden of adversity.
We grow roots from the soil assigned to us even if it is so full of awful things
We water ourselves and bloom every spring even when we don’t want to
Even after all the harsh seasons we’ve been through
We tend to ourselves and prune and pick
They put us there not expecting us to adapt and blossom in our environments
We turned scraps into nourishment
And as long as there’s some sun there are no limits
Generation after generation we water ourselves when we were set up to dry
We lean toward the sun growing stronger knowing nothing can break our strength
Because lord knows they have tried
We are the seeds our ancestors sowed
And we would be doing them a disservice if we didn’t grow
We’re used to blooming in unusual spaces
And understand that it takes a special type of person to embrace us

I’ve never felt that fear is my enemy. Fear is my friend. It offers me a chance to stay alert, keep growing, continue creating something new. If you don’t take that sort of risk, you learn nothing.” Eartha Kitt