- Mar 19, 2001
- 2,627
- 33
early evening
sitting trying to figure out
if the square root to a number
looked like itself
...she pondered...........
she didn't hear the wind bend
the branches to ghetto trees
whose square roots
choked those that crept in the shadows
despising the sun
she didn't hear that ******'s crooked
finger pull that trigger
all she heard was herself
singing about the joys of learning
in the backroom of her mind
(she sure could sing)
she didn't hear the bullet screaming from
the chamber or the wall gasping for it's last breath
as it was ripped by misguided lead
all she heard was herself
singing as the bullet passed through her
chest
(mama can you save her?)
sometimes I hate life...
vigils being held for her
5:00 / be there
gotta be there for her
to watch her spirit be cleansed
by the tears shed for her
she rises
she rises too soon (she was only 12)
she rises too soon but washed of
she rises too soon but washed of all the bullshyt
sediment that weighed down the trigger finger
that made her sing
like the bird impaled on the thorn who sang
it's finest song in death
"yes, tyesha the square root of 49 is 7..."
rise tyesha
RISE
(c)2002 blakverb
Tyesha Edwards age 12, struck by a stray bullet while sitting at her table doing homework. Another life lost too soon, another stain on our collective fabric. Every child you come across hug and tell them how important they are. Every man and woman you come across greet with a warm hello and a smile. Love is too scarce. Souls grow cold and minds crippled resulting in madness.
sitting trying to figure out
if the square root to a number
looked like itself
...she pondered...........
she didn't hear the wind bend
the branches to ghetto trees
whose square roots
choked those that crept in the shadows
despising the sun
she didn't hear that ******'s crooked
finger pull that trigger
all she heard was herself
singing about the joys of learning
in the backroom of her mind
(she sure could sing)
she didn't hear the bullet screaming from
the chamber or the wall gasping for it's last breath
as it was ripped by misguided lead
all she heard was herself
singing as the bullet passed through her
chest
(mama can you save her?)
sometimes I hate life...
vigils being held for her
5:00 / be there
gotta be there for her
to watch her spirit be cleansed
by the tears shed for her
she rises
she rises too soon (she was only 12)
she rises too soon but washed of
she rises too soon but washed of all the bullshyt
sediment that weighed down the trigger finger
that made her sing
like the bird impaled on the thorn who sang
it's finest song in death
"yes, tyesha the square root of 49 is 7..."
rise tyesha
RISE
(c)2002 blakverb
Tyesha Edwards age 12, struck by a stray bullet while sitting at her table doing homework. Another life lost too soon, another stain on our collective fabric. Every child you come across hug and tell them how important they are. Every man and woman you come across greet with a warm hello and a smile. Love is too scarce. Souls grow cold and minds crippled resulting in madness.
