Phearless Phacecards

The landscape is charred and scarred and the faces are hard. Seemingly barred from owning a front and back yard. Yet, the roses rise from the cracked cement, the weeds grow and blow their seeds to the breeze. They find rebirth at an ease. The discomfort of environment and constantly paying rent can make a man vent. Yet, something seems heaven sent. In the convo, the reality is the quality of building resourcefulness and fortitude and an inclination to conquer the situation. A certain grit and character can never be diminished in magnitude with something to prove. All the while, striking a groove.

Underneath all that rubble and decay, I saw phearless phaces. Residents walking with chin ups while loading up work trucks, merely brushing away the systems stacked against them finding homes with white picket fences and a golden doodle doodling in the yard. Phaces are hardened. It’s a place where, if you’re asking someone if their “feelings are hurt” you’d be speaking in foreign tongues. You see, from a place like this, the skin grows thicker and life hits a little quicker. The filter has been removed long ago. The speed of life’s learning curves have long ago been paved over in asphalt time and again. Born with a head up helps to get a leg up on the adversities of the roadways.

Philly on the mind….