poetry

chrysalis

Leaves me begging for that same whip...


  Chris:
      Grew up
    Aside his courageous
            Chrysalis;
  Not a brother-of-color
    Any’d necessarily miss,
  Were they per-usual dumb
        To the singular honor
    And co-opted naturality
            Of his friendship—
      Nails me numb,
  Leaves me begging
        For that same whip.
  To hell’s-where with all
    Who’d ‘scotch-skip his name,
Who he was and what he’s done,
  Or shame-order-in the prejudice
        He’s had to o’ercome
  To become skyscraper tall,
        That dark wall o’er his back,
    Yet black-bricked in my face.
                I’ve zero-shame
        In turning more the mess
  Than he was some
      Predetermined disgrace—
Yet my heart does crack
    For his having to fight
Far harder than I did;
      Battle-cut and long-winded,
  I’m, to the ends of antithesis,
      So-proudly less
              Than he
                Is.


Previous Post:
    Poetry: Keep The Key
        https://windstrewn.com/2020/07/20/keep-the-key/


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