Growing Our New Garden
Sharing Seeds from a Black Man's Mind
See, I have PTSD from society, but I still stand as the stubborn root that it is built upon, for I am my father’s son, the seed cultivated from my mother, nature’s finest offering, though I am not the oldest fruit from her tree, I grew strong, strong enough to protect my brothers and defend my sisters
and though the world would have me bring them down, I bear no strange fruit, yet still, the blood that runs through my veins is the same that’s been spilt on the soil, on the concrete, in the streets, but not in vain, in preparation for greatness, to be engineered into our DNA, it’s not cause we were bred this way it’s because we breed this way
Surviving the horrors untold to society, so much so that the mere notions create concentrated contempt. I am pain; I am pain; I am pain; I am pain, yet I remain.
For where does art come from if not pain. Where does ingenuity and creativity appear if not from pain? Pressure makes diamonds well within our blood pressure is always high. So please don’t let those diamonds spill out in those streets. Use them for renovation. Support their innovations. For once we were mined for the very same gems we give away for free.
I don’t want that for you. I don’t want that for me. Or our seeds as we return to nature and perhaps plant those trees in the most optimal soil in whatever shape and shade God has intended for them to be. My god, wouldn’t that be great to see. A new garden grown for the next generation. Maybe, just maybe, a better society.
About the Creator
Blake A Swan
NCSA Strength and Conditioning Professional certified as a CSCS, TSAC-F, and CPT. I have my FMS Certification as well, and spent over a decade working with athletes in various sports. Including youth, high school, college, Olympic and Pro.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.