growth.

we were the best of friends,
through the better,
always stuck together,
through all the sunny weather.
and when the rain came down,
sometimes we'd shine,
through the sheltered area,
of my back porch.
and like a flower through the concrete,
in the middle of my black street,
we learned to grow into our own.
and not to be scared,
to say what we felt,
and to hold onto those who mattered,
and lose those that didn't.
so now we find ourselves,
leaving again,
and we're all without a plan.
but i know in my heart,
that we'll all stumble and crawl,
and then learn to run on our own.
but we'll always remember,
and come back in december,
to the place we all know as 'home'.