Formula

So I’m convinced…
There has to be a formula…
And I pray that God will whisper to me the method.
The equation to solve my question of how to keep him safe…?
How to prevent him from becoming another statistic
I’m trying to be both realistic and optimistic
And I know that there has to be formula!!
One that he can digest with ease
So that my explanation for it can actually be received
The best thing I’ve done to date…
The most beautiful work I’ve ever written…
Speaks back to me in tongues, spit bubbles and coos
And so I write more haikus than ever before so that he knows, as plain as day, that I hear him loud and clearly

“Baby you are fresh
Never thought I’d be this dope
So for that, thank you”

His tiny hands grip any finger placed in front of him…
But how do I teach him that every finger offered should not be taken?
I don’t want him to be anti-social
Yet I know all too well the cost of being social
So I pray God that there really is a formula…
See my milk has dried from lack of expression and excess stressin’
Yet my son still needs to be fed!!
And when it comes to raising children, everyone needs a hand every now and then
Already trying so hard to protect him from the elements, yet I’m still wanting him to splash the water every now and again
So again…
I know that there has to be a formula…
One that can keep him satiated!!
One that can keep him elevated!!
The topic alone has me agitated!!
But I am too educated…
His father is far too educated…
Yet we are both stumped!!
Back in school again
Starring at chalk boys
I mean chalk boards
Trying to reconfigure the numbers
“If I take away that 16 year old murdered boy and add that 6 month old deceased baby…”
Oh Hell Nah, this shit does not add up properly!!
I look at him and want him to grow up properly
I want him to grow up healthy and honestly…
And in all honesty…
I don’t want to hear from someone who doesn’t have children telling me what they think it would feel like to lose one.
Cause you don’t know what you’re talking about,
So please revamp what you just spat about and adjust the way Oscar Grant’s name just left your mouth
This ain’t slam gritty
It ain’t open mic pretty
But its reality nonetheless
Ever had somebody else relying on the beat of your chest to take their pain away?
Nah, death is not an option!!
Cause I can see him grown-man-turned-father and I need to be able to one day say thank you!!
See although my milk has dried from lack of expression and excess stressin’
My son still needs to be fed!!
I am more optimistic these days...
And I am thankful with every waking day…
Because I give you my word that if a formula doesn’t already exist for him...then God has no choice but to Bless the child whose mama is determined to create him his own…