There is something
about that space
Where dreams are
not yet realized
And not yet lost
I think it’s clear
to all of us
That won or lost
Some things are
worth
Anything they cost
Too often
I’ve thought of
myself
As Hip Hop’s unrequited
lover
Bottom brother
Same mother
Different father
Who while present
Couldn’t be
bothered
Because of the
strains
His worldview had
him under
What separatism
heralds
Let hugs put
asunder
Oh Wonder Walls
And wonder years
San Mig Light and
Lime
Hold my tears
I still feel her
Though I’ve aged
So many years
since then
I wish I had been
man enough
To be her friend
Truth is I loved
to see her happy
But I couldn’t
stand him
Even though I knew
It really wasn’t
his fault
Ah, it was all for
the best
I’m better
For having passed
that test
Gained some angst
With which to
testify
Strength to cry
and laugh
I need a Sylvia Plath
Who teaches math
With hypnotic hips
And Dascha Polanco’s
Lips
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