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TAYGEN HENRY Feb 16
you've heard about the rose,
that grew from concrete,
it learned to walk,
without having feet.

funny it seems,
we forget about the rose who,
never got the chance,
to keep his dreams.
or a chance to
breathe free.
like the rose who succumbed underneath
all of life's adversities.
like the rose who was shot,
by a force of unjust police.
or the rose who fell victim
to generational poverty.
or the rose who was born with a
serious disability.
or the rose who came from a
long line of broken families.
or the rose who felt the effects
everyday of inequality.
making it harder for him
to spread his great leaves.

lets not forget,
about the rose who couldn't,
rise and beat the concrete,
and whose body lies underneath the concrete,
lets not forget
about the rose who couldn't rise from a crack between,
the concrete.
The Rose That Grew From Concrete
Tupac Shakur

Did you hear about the rose that grew
from a crack in the concrete?
Proving nature's law is wrong it
learned to walk with out having feet.
Funny it seems, but by keeping its dreams,
it learned to breathe fresh air.
Long live the rose that grew from concrete
when no one else ever cared.


This poem by Tupac is one of my favorites so I tried to write a poem acknowledging it yet still from a different perspective. The poem is sort of one big allusion.
ardnaxela Feb 8
the Rose that grew from concrete...
the delicate face
of a fragile beauty...
guarded by some tough exterior -
dutifully unacknowledged.
indeed, achieved a great a feat
but still
buried underneath their feet.

everyday trodden;
not once a chance to thrive -
effects of a circadian stampede.
A Rose
that grew for a simple life,
but the beauty within had died.

Her leaves she let wilt,
took every blow she was dealt -
dull thorns now to speak for.
color drained with a droopy stem,
wishing away dark clouds
so then maybe
she would
See more.

Rose.
could she have had it all?
her existence left her nothing.
party of one and the place is full of Rocks.
a stand-alone soldier in a grave situation;
the hurt wouldn't stop coming;
should we pray for such mercies?
she figures...

no singular mercy could unseal her fate
the blade of society is sharp and
against her soft petals it continuously scrape

...when you've felt one pain you've felt them all.
senseless emotions
trigger moisture in the stigma
finally a drop of color -
to the concrete it would fall
rich red
like the Flower
that once cracked those gray walls.
I was inspired to take poetry seriously by Tupac. The Rose That Grew from Concrete - the first poem of his I read. This poem was inspired by that one, and emotions I was feeling about myself, my relationship and others around me at the time. This was originally written in 2015. Thanks for reading.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=138xrxhVg&list=PLbM5LMVZad0bNiepJmrb-DIBdHUZAKETC
It's going to start the playlist with the second video saying the first is unavailable. The first is available so go ahead and just start it from "The Power of Smile by Tupac Shakur".
Mrs Robota Jan 2019
Got Tupac in my ear
Singing “I ain’t mad at cha”
And I feel it
Cause it was my fault
I ****** up again
but all I can do is beg

Please don’t be mad at me
I ain't mad at cha
Please don’t be mad at me
I ain't mad at cha
Please don’t be mad at me
I ain't mad at cha
Please don’t be mad at me

Yeah I know you're tired of hearing it
The excuses and sorry's
But it's all I have
and all I can do is beg

Please don’t be mad at me
I ain't mad at cha
Please don’t be mad at me
I ain't mad at cha
Please don’t be mad at me
I ain't mad at cha
Please don’t be mad at me

Got Tupac in my ear
Singing, “I ain’t mad at cha”
And I need it
Cause I know I don't deserve forgiveness
And all I can do is beg

Please don’t be mad at me
I ain't mad at cha
Please don’t be mad at me
I ain't mad at cha
Please don’t be mad at me
I ain't mad at cha
Please don’t be mad at me

One day I'll make it all right
But for now
all I can do is beg

Please don’t be mad at me
Please don’t be mad at me
Please don’t be mad at me
Please don’t be mad at me
So don’t be mad at me

I ain't mad at cha
To my friends, family, and everyone
I'm sorry I'm such a ******* ***** up
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2018
End
What is it we all fear,
reflections in the mirror.
We can't escape fate,
the end is getting nearer.
I'm feeling a lil off today, so I listened again to Tupac's 'Who Do You Believe In' and this part in particular stood out to me. Tupac wasn't perfect, but he truly was a gifted man. To me, he is and always will be the Greatest Rapper of All Time.

Songwriters: Yafeu Fula / Johnny Lee Jackson / Tupac Amaru Shakur / Jason Kay / Toby Smith / Dwight Delemond Williams
Who Do You Believe In lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2018
You got to find a way to survive
'Cause they win when your soul dies
RIP to one of the greatest rappers that ever lived, Tupac.
I stopped listening to rap music years ago, but Tupac....Tupac's the exception.
He truly was a poet with his message and music; his voice ITSELF was music.
He empowered without denouncing, he spoke about many topics.
And for that, he will always have my respect.
He's what I call a musician.
Granted, he swore, he made his mistakes but he was ahead of his time.
He was wise, he was fierce, he was so confident.
He was a solider.
'Baby, Don't Cry' will forever be in my heart, and these two lines ALONE spoke volumes to me. It still does...
I'm sorry for not being as active. My headache's gotten worse...
But indeed, in life, you need to survive. If you give up, your enemies wins and your soul dies in the process.
Be back soon!
Lyn ***



Baby Don't Cry (Keep Ya Head Up II) lyrics © BMG Rights Management US, LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc
Tupac Shakur Mar 2018
Did you hear about the rose that grew From a crack in the concrete?
Provin nature's laws wrong
It learned to walk without having feet
Funny it seems but by keeping its Dreams
It learned to breathe FRESH air
Long live the rose that grew from Concrete
When no one else even cared
The Rose is a metaphor for Tupac himself and the concrete symbolic of the ghettos he grew up in.
Aaron LaLux Nov 2017
Who cares who shot JFK I wanna know who shot Tupac,
who cares about the CIA's JFK Files release date,
it’s 2017 and I’m on a plane watching All Eyez On Me,
flying westbound outta the Westside of LA,
on All Hallow’s Eve and it’s all feeling kinda spooky,
because I’m on this plane with another Libra The Boy Drake,

and I don’t care who shot JFK,
I want to know who shot Tupac,
met Suge two times and got the feeling he didn’t,
plus when they hit Pac even Suge got two shots,

so who shot Tupac,
as I write with all I’ve got,
in red ink as my red eyes blink,
pen lines looking like blood drops,

all eyes on me,
until my eternal slumber,
but enough about the words,
what about the numbers,

75 million albums sold,
713 songs,
7 films that’s 777,
same as the title of the latest book I put out,

seems Tupac and I,
share a mutual obsession with the #7,
plus his last album Killuminati was subtitled 7 Day Theory,
not to mention the fact that Pac was shot on September 7th,

as I trace the early similarities,
between me and Tupac,
I think back to when I almost signed with Suge,
and I too feel like Tupac,

I too was raised in New York,
I too got put on in LA,
I too almost lost my soul in Vegas,
I too am both profane and a saint,
I too feel confused and conflicted,
I too both sin and pray,
I too write with a sense of urgency,
because I too know tomorrow isn’t promised today,

I too have found my street instincts to be risky,
I too have gotten it on at the Luxor,
I too know there’s a thin line,
between Love & Hate and between Enemies & Lovers,

trapped between over the top celebrities,
and detectives undercover,
and I’ll a pirate sailor sailing high,
but still I have to fight from going over,

oh Lord,
forgive me for I know not what I do,
and maybe the reason I feel guilty,
is because I waste my gifts on **** and *****,

choose,
your own adventure,

lost,
caught up in the trap that’s why they call it a trap,
winnin’ till when that window rolls down and you don’t know,
if it’s gonna be a gun shot or a camera snap,

I know what’s coming even though I don’t know when,

signing my own death certificate,
like Pac signing to Death Row,
see he thought he was just giving Suge his Music,
but really what he was giving him was his soul,

nobody know when they’re gonna go,
we’re at the table at the Last Supper till they pull our card,
which I guess is sickeningly befitting,
considering Tupac was shot in Vegas on Las Vegas Blvd.,

and all that’s left of him,
is this movie that I watch on this plane,
and what’s happened to our music,
lost Tupac and gained Drake,

and that’s not a shot at Drake,
I mean Drake’s cool,
I’m flying with him to Australia,
but Drake doesn’t have Tupac’s soul,

our music has been watered down,
now Hip Hop sounds like Pop Rock,
I mean how can you even compare,
Hotline Bling to Keep Your Head Up,

what the fck,

how’d we go from Black Panther,
to ***** cat,
how’d we go from I Ain’t Mad At Cha,
to Best I Ever Had,

and I’m not even mad,
I mean I respect Drake for sure,
he gets that money and has always been good to me,
but Drake is no Tupac that’s for sure,

but I won’t elaborate further because,
we all know what happens when you ask too many questions,
so I’ll just keep getting my money and writing my books,
& keep going to church without admitting confessions,

and I’m ending,
this poem right here with an RIP,
RIP to Tupac,
Rest In Peace,

another leader slain,
and I’m so caught up I forgot what I was saying,
even forgot where I was,
which is flying westbound on this plane,

writing verses in blood red ink,
feeling like Pac All Eyes on me,
wondering who shot Tupac pen lines like blood drops,
as I write what I think with all that I’ve got in ink,

ink as red as my red eyes that blink,
sending this poem off as a literary Hail Mary,
with California Love even those it’s Me Against the World,
Keep Your Head Up & congratulations Brenda’s Got A Baby,

and I know I’ll likely Live & Die in LA,
so I wonder if there’s a Heaven for a G,
& if there is Dear Mama I’ll meet you at **** Mansion,
& please know I Ain’t Mad At Cha but I’ve gotta go so peace…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆

30/10/17
I've never told anyone about this, but I've met Suge Knight several times and he was always cool with me. We flew to JFK airport in NYC & discussed a lot of things. I wasn't going to mention this but a combination of factors led me to coming out about it. 1st of all a photo of me and Suge popped up online, 2nd, the JFK papers were released last week, 3rd, I flew with Drake to New Zealand, and 4th, I watched All Eyez On Me on the flight... Which led me to writing the following poem. Please let me know your thoughts on this, or anything else related to Tupac, Suge Knight, JFK, Drake, or your boy Aaron La Lux... ∆
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