By T.A. Jones
They’ve been staring at my bud
For years and years and they fear
They have wasted their time.
Taking me from the garden
Where I first established my roots,
A decision was made
Now I’m completely displaced.
No chance to scatter my seeds
As I’m a potted plant
That will have to be repotted again
And again when my roots expand
With no real ground to grow.
I just wish, I was back in the garden
Looking at the stars
Waiting to bloom under the moon
All on my own.
T.A. Jones is a Black writer based in Atlanta, Georgia. T.A. is published/featured in Chill Subs, Fahmidan Journal, Sage Cigarettes, Hyacinth Review, Erato Magazine, and That Black Boy Mag, and also has music articles published in CentralSauce. Jones graduated from Western Carolina University. You can find him on Twitter @tajthepoet95
