Self-Raising Flower
From the seeds of change they hastily planted,
I'd take up the challenge,
And later then manage to break through the granite.
While down in this poor city,
Surrounded by paucity,
And without your security - I'd sprout from obscurity.
I was a floundering fork of leaves that could barely stand aroused,
While blowing in the very same wind Dylan once sang about.
His dulcet tones had rang aloud right throughout my development,
Strengthening the moral fibre from which I now stand as towering evidence.
The showers of pessimists may cast dark clouds above my head,
But with the rich foundation at my feet -
I merely choose to look towards the sun instead.
See, life is about growth, but beyond the basis of that,
I don't want my head in the clouds, just high enough to see the snakes in the grass.
By burying the mistakes of my past beneath the successes I've just completed,
I've found there's a garden of opportune out there for those brave enough to seek it.
If you just believe in yourself, you'll find you too infact are courageous,
A rose from concrete who emerged from the cracks in the pavement,
To gasps of amazement.
And amidst the debris of urban decay, I stand here thus as a grown man.
This flower is self-raising.
From the ground up with my own hands.
Though born with a gutter mouth and tu-lips that held ambition,
I believed you should only judge the measure of a man, when one is proven self-sufficient.
I felt imprisoned while scaling to new heights trying to stomach the tension,
As I was a mere shrub in contention for your love and attention once I'd begun my ascention.
Those incandescent petals of course were a mere mask of elegance worn,
To assist in covering my face and to help me weather the storm.
I ascended the wall while striving to next reach the heights I'd professed,
While ignoring the flower bed,
As there was plenty of time for a rest when I was finally dead.
Our Mother was a radiant ball of fire,
And I was dragged up, not raised, as her baby.
But given her nurturing warmth I savoured it daily - Until no vase could contain me.
As amazing it may be amidst the debris of urban decay,
I now stand here thus as a grown man.
This flower is self-raising.
From the ground up with my own hands.
This flower is self-raising.
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