TUPAC by Guest Blogger

They say he led a violent life
 but I say what would you expect
from a rose that grew
from the concrete
 with no juice
 from the soil to the root,

forced to face
the harshness of the sun,
The torrents of the rain,
With saps from each,
Like a torturous woes he only
Could gain lessons from

And draw courage
from a rare inspiration
 he became a rose with thorns
 to protect what's left!
And that he deed to his last breath,

He was able to spread more smiles,
Than tears,
Despite shedding so many all through
His Early years,
With dwindling trusted peers,

as the cold hands of death desires,
A decade and seven after
His name refuses to expire,
A rose that grew with thorns
From the concrete jungle

Touching  to say
 25 was last calender age,
But to history its just his beginning,
A beginning that may raise a glass
To drink with a centurion

Makavelli lives on  

                       by Omananyi Yakubu