The news hit like bricks
on a newscast – as my spirit told me
not to click past.
When one from the legions leave –
a hole is left.
Those cruel reminders that
this place ain’t our home.
It isn’t often
that I encounter a soul.
That is a planet
rather than a moon
in that the sheer gravity
of their goodness
pulls others
into their orbit –
power in numbers
compelling others
to aspire higher –
I was honored
to bear witness
to molding of the minds
by a truly good brother
He and I
of those legions
to whom we both
pledge allegiance –
Black Boys
to Men.
I saw him teach
from the soul –
wrapping up
those young brothers –
who came after –
with the guile
to be audacious
arming them with tools
to confound
the contradictions
strewn in their paths
Black boys… daring to be glorious.
.
.
Busta
I salute you for a job well done.
Rest well my friend.
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