Poem on 2pac

Only God Can Judge 2pac...
Black man, Black boy, Prince, Thug,
Revolutionary, Symbol. They only see your
tattoos, jewelry, and body language. They only
hear your vulgar words, defiant messages, and
your unavoidable controversy. They see your life
as a threat, they comment "chickens came home
to roost." They blame you for violence in
America, they pour disgust on you and point the
finger at you for problems in our families.
Black man, Black boy, Prince, Thug,
Revolutionary, Symbol. We see you as the dark
truth they are scared to accept. We see you as the
voice we sometimes could not find. We see you
as a young Malcolm X. Alcohol, drugs, women
and prison consumed you, as it did Brother
Malcolm. Yet those that knew you, knew you
were on the way out, you had seen the light and
moved toward it. We felt your pain, so similar to
ours. We felt your frustration, so similar to ours.
We felt your anger, so similar to ours. You are an
unavoidable realness. To Generation X, as they
describe it, you are a 1996 Elvis, John Lennon,
Jimi Hendricks, Sammy Davis, Ella Fitzgerald.
Those that don't know, may never know. Those
that do know, truly know that... Only God Can
Judge me!