Just past dusk, the summer heat bows down to say it's prayers to the most high.
Leaving bodies drenched in perspiration, with the stench of anxiety.
The sky turns purple haze. Relaxed. Still. With promise for better days.
Down the street is a clutter of enlivened teens who find comfort in summer's liberty. Unconfined. No responsibilities. Educational routine on intermission or so they think, because learning never ends.
They gather in the cadence of prose, cyphering around the metaphorical prism of Lil Wayne lyrics.
They become instant mathematicians as the dice hit the pavement and they divide their earnings at the next re-up.
They develop keen minds as unmarked vehicles survey the neighborhood. Decision makers: When to run or when to assume the position.
They face dilemma head on when the decision to run causes their friends to be cradled by their untimely expiration date.
Statistical overload.
The neighbors say, "he was too young to die"...he...Because the name his mother gave him can't be defined.
Please Summer while you say your prayers say a prayer for the teens down the street.
Lost in your liberty.
Pray for their safety.
So they can learn the lessons in the beauty of the seasons changing.
No comments:
Post a Comment