Concrete Lily

I ‘m stuck here were sometimes the sun never shines and my only relief is a drop of rain from time to time, I fear someone may step on me and crush me into the ground…my pedals tremble as people pass me by. I return every year around the same time every year, only to witness man’s inhumanity to his fellow man. Yet I hear them proclaim he is my brother and then the next day spread his brains across the concrete and stones with a single shot from a single handgun. As mother leaned over his lifeless body with tears of dreams that now are deferred falling down her face, her once lovely smile replace the face of a man whom had been lost for nearly fifteen if not longer. It was her last time to say good bye to her only son. But for some reason she just started looking at me…her eyes all glazed and empty. As the police pulled her off her son put him in the ambulance… as she scream at the fireman and the cops who held her back from being able to get one last farewell or a single last embrace. I didn’t cry, but a single drop of water did fall off my pedal as they covered his face. This place that I’m in, I once heard someone say, “This is ghetto you better get use to this place.” how can people live in this place? I then fell a tug at the base of my stem…as his mother pluck me and later place me on his grave. As she laid me there on his casket and said, “A lily for my baby, a sign of continued life in uncertain place.”