My son asked me to read him this book last night. It was in my lil pile because I replaced a copy I lent out years ago. I don’t think I’ve read this book all the way through since high school, though, and never out loud. But my son sat quiet for the whole book lol.

It’s cool to see Tupac’s writing, both in his handwriting and just on paper instead of hearing him speak. You can still feel his voice in these poems, but they are much more youthful than his raps–a hope for love mixed with underdeveloped anger written in short, simple lines. Still, there’s power in that innocence. The writer is a budding artist, still honing his craft and finding his way.