Abraham Lincoln
About 200 years ago in the days of slavery
They said one day a hundred of our youth shall meet
When their forefathers tire of perspiring from heat
They shall travel to the south end of the Windy City
And they did and they kids met upon Lincoln Ave
When two schools converged as one to free up tax
It was me and my brother from another Nubian Queen
God Bless, may she rest from the struggles she had seen
See the halls were never clean nope never not at all
Arrive to school minutes late from the morning basketball
Chest heaving smell like heathens telling stories that grew tall
Grabbed yo first palm of ass in the hallway as she past
See the broads wore a mask, squeezing stop from a smile
Squeezing ass into they pants, the ones with breasts made us wild
And you were cool if you dated not only one but maybe two
Three or four to the smooth given notes to read through
Pull that fire alarm, I’m tired of raising my arm
After school conference hope Mr. Willis don’t meet yo moms
It was blue and white apparel with the Air Force One’s
Sunflower seeds between our teeth drinking Capri Sun
You know what is, bricks were falling that’s appalling
Kids fucking in the Expo bathroom, what have you
Would pay to see the main event of Reggie vs. Matthew
Rocks thrown at the other team’s bus as it passes
Disguised voice to trick a hunny’s parents for ass kid
Tactics used for a girl too young for male action
Delinquent behavior probably cursing your neighbor
Breaking Chen’s window and RUN cuz them Niggas were crazy
Fuck that homework I’m lazy, shit it’s scorching outside
Torching my BMX, broad on pegs loving the ride
Eyes bugged Samantha Curtis quoted the value of pi
Some of the Niggas in the building then de-valued the pie
We were rotten like bottom apples looking for those that sprint
Trying to bust down at Dre’s crib with dental gloves for protection
See those were the days we slaved away on Lincoln’s ground
As they built in the back while our building crumbled down
Mumbles of our ghosts whispering down the hallways now
To the ears of our younger peers that just touched down
We mommies and daddies now, laborers and scholars
Clean and blue collar all in the name of a dollar
We started here minus any fear of diminished fiscal years
Brown children interwoven born from a griot’s fairytale
Donald A.C. Conley
(photo by Lemia Monet)
Meekley 