Almost a Man in the Hood
Predetermined and select
His enemies he knows by heart
No longer answering to "boy"
Though prepared to make yet another statement
necessarily suspect
the teenage gangster wields his blade
carves out unbuilt barriers
at the border of his hood.
his colors he wears with unrelinquished pride
his Nikes have walked upon the blood
of friend and foe
have kicked ass
as if it were an intramural soccer ball.
not yet labeled a man
he enters the arena of chance
like the days of suit and armor.
the assault would come
from too many angles
and his metallic tool
though protectively beautiful
deflects every bullet
but the one blessed at his birth.