We grew up in a warzone. The war on drugs and the war on terror. It was too dangerous outdoors so we played inside, in front of the big screen. Ironically, there were 1000 times as many violent deaths on the telly than there were outside. Thanks to 24-hour marathons of Law and Order, twenty-four people were murked in our living rooms every day. When we weren’t eye-witnessing a shoot-em-up, we were watching corporate warfare. The networks battled for our attention so that they could distribute Power Wheels, Beenie Babies and Fruity Pebbles. We didn’t choose between them. We bought all three. The first Jordans came out before we was born, but that didn’t stop us from buying them when the retros re-released. We laced them up and went ‘round the corner with our Starter Jackets and got shot in the face over some bullshit and some clothes. When crack hit the block we represented as the first crack babies. Our fathers was Niggaz with Attitudes, at least that’s what we heard from our mama and them. Our minds are at war with themselves. They go rapid fire like a semi-automatic and won’t slow down enough to focus on these books, or on a simple conversation. In sixth grade we graduated from Ritalin to dro. We are the Class of 2012. We ain’t never seen peace, and can’t even remember a peace movement but the prophecy speaks we will be the ones to bring it forth. Somehow despite the scars that decorate our bodies we believe it. Because we believe, peace will be bestowed upon those who have never known it. We will build it from scratch.

~KLKN