“If I told you that a flower bloomed in a dark room, would you trust it?”—
This line encapsulates the concept of a good kid in a bad city, and it cuts into one of the most moral questions in human existence: Can good come from evil? The best part about the line, as is true of the best poetry, is that it doesn’t answer the question it asks. For Kendrick’s immediate purposes, he’s the flower and the city is the dark room. The question is: Can you trust him?
“I’m in misery where you can seem as old as your omens, And the mother we share will never keep your proud head from falling, The way is long but you can make it easy on me, And the mother we share will never keep our cold hearts from calling”
i will take pills and when i do i will call you cause i don’t like myself but i can’t be someone else and i don’t like you you don’t like me too so i will get sick every day for a week and when i do i will call you i can’t stop telling lies to everyone that i like and i don’t like you you don’t like me too
“[Poetry] forms the quality of the light within which we predicate our hopes and dreams toward survival and change, first made into language, then into idea, then into more tangible action… The farthest horizons of our hopes and fears are cobbled by our poems, carved from the rock experiences of our daily lives.”—Audre Lorde