Roots...

My roots,
Run deep,
Which ones you may ask,
Just the roots of my hair,
Run all the way back,
Back to when French braids,
Were maps,
We had rice in our roots,
Running from...
That’s just a few of my roots...

My roots,
Run deep,
Which ones you may ask,
My pen has always been rooted in justice,
Even when mom paid the bills,
When my poems got a grade,
I had pain in my pen,
Even way back then,
At fourteen now I’m twenty-five,
Still rooted in my craft...