Black Roses Grow From Concrete Poem by Paula Glynn

She is a woman of colour,
And she lives in the ghetto,
It is a tough place,
Where drugs and guns,
Are a regular occurrence,
But black roses,
Do grow from concrete.

She is as sweet as sugar,
And her parents love her deeply,
For they have always cared,
They have always supported her,
For they know black roses,
Do grow from concrete.

School is tough,
But she pushes on,
Not lowering herself,
To the level of those,
Gangster brutes,
With their drugs and guns,
For they have not won.

She is a black rose,
That grows from concrete,
She fits into the daytime and night-time,
She moves on the tide,
An anchor keeping her steady,
On the waves,

For it is a turbulent life,
And turbulent for everyone,
In the ghetto,
But beautiful black roses,
Are growing from the concrete,
Making a difficult place better,
And changing white to black.

The schools are full of young people,
Seeing a world beyond the poverty,
Where they are never robbed,
Where they are never attacked,
And don’t have to worry,
About windows being smashed,
Or the lead gangster,
Quick to kill,
But this woman of colour,
Will never be killed,
For she grew from concrete,
Into a beautiful black rose.