(For NaPoWriMo, Day 2. I chose to write about my parents and their influence on me.)

Father was a Native
while his mother was American
Born with more than a
family name as inheritance
Blood of mercenaries,
politicians and kings
He was meant to
change the world, to show ‘em a few things

Cocky when he’s
athletic,  hell of an academic
He had a penchant for
intellectual calisthenics
Almost as much as
fisticuffs, soon to give it up
For pursuits in
America, going to live it up

 Ivy League med
school, working for the dream
But he felt a calling,
dropped the jersey, different team
Traded up for
business school so he can get the cream
And stay fresh like breath
after Listerine

Worked his way up the
ladders tryna make it big
With pressure from a
world leader for a different gig
He put it off for a
while, after all: he had a child
But he soon realized
just what he had to give

8 years spent reliving
his father’s dreams
Optimistic visions of
a nation’s sins redeemed
Gave his blood, sweat
and tears, endless nights of our fears
Now the world sees
him walk away with esteem

Father was a General,
mother proletariat
Soul of an advocate,
blood of Ms. Harriet
Landed in America at
only sixteen
Trying to follow her
dreams, this Liberian queen

Forced to hustle for
a dollar as she tried to go to college
Dismissive of a poor
African teenager’s knowledge
But she eventually
made it, through the adversity
And got her JD after
completing university

Kept the hard work up
as a lawyer in Atlanta
But she hit a glass
ceiling and they couldn’t understand her
Even with the perfect
grammar, brilliance and good manners
You can’t fight a
hurricane with some nails and a hammer

So she ended up in
government and passion’s running wild
Woman full of
creativity, a burning sense of style
She might seem a
little different, but she has a new mission:
She will never the
world kill her ambition

 If you hadn’t
realized, these are my Mom and Pop
Out of all those in
the world these are the two I got
And even with everything
they managed to achieve
It’s crazy to think
how much they did while they had me

So even though they
may have diverged on different paths
Legacy – like a
phoenix – I emerge from the ash
It’s absurd, and I
laugh; such a burden, the past
Sometimes I wish I
could turn time like The Flash

But I can’t change
the past, so I live for the future
For almost every
wound, writing rhymes is my suture
My story isn’t over,
in fact it’s barely begun
I’ve barely scratched
the surface and I’m destined for the Sun

Because I woke up
every day knowing the world could be mine
It’s just a diamond
in the rough and so it had to be mined
So I got back on the
grind, and tell me what do you find
But your boy painting
pictures with the rhyme?

I’m the next chapter

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