Screaming at the Sky
Mothers screaming mournfully at a deaf sky
holding their heads helplessly as they cry
pitiful tears for innocent, defenseless children slaughtered
in fatal cross fires, deadly drug wars
drive-by shootings, and cases of mistaken identity
on blood-splattered streets, senseless endless violence; but
who really gives a damn, only grief-stricken
mothers screaming mournfully at a deaf sky.
(Form – Enjambment posted as Verse – 8 lines with 7 words in each line.
The 1st line and the 8th line are the same)
Copyright © Pandita Sanchez
As he slept in tranquil dream,
Suddenly he flew, it seemed.
Thrown and landing on the floor,
Shaking walls and splintered doors.
Just as quick, the room grew still.
Distant tremors he could feel.
Out the door, and up the rock,
There he stood in sleepy shock.
How could oceans disappear.
Then a hissing he could hear
And a trembling, heavy roar
Headed for an empty shore.
Sunrise turned a greenish hue,
As he climbed, a better view.
Seeming far too large, he saw
What must be a water wall.
Thought of ancient stories told
Of a wrath that could unfold;
Sucking oceans with a breath,
Spewing endless waves of death.
Instinct quickly cleared his mind.
Panic now, he clawed and climbed.
Up, despite the screams he hears,
As a village disappears.
Once an evil came to call,
Scooped them up and took them all.
Now he's old, his stories wane,
Of the morning Satan came.
Copyright © Gene Bourne
A vignette of domestic violence and the weird rationale of love amidst such
circumstances - adapted from how it was depicted to me by a female friend and
taken from her own personal experience.
I was defined china and porcelain,
Inlaid glass flowers and gently spoken;
Fragile in doe-eyed delicacy,
Pleading and begging not to be broken.
I loved him with total forgiveness,
Did not, could not, would not understand
The dark chaos mood of lability,
The spontaneous violence of his hand.
Blue and black bruises indecorously swelled
Question marks about tear brimmed eyes;
And I wept and despaired in confusion,
Smashed and grabbed by wherefores and whys.
How could he dream to hurt me so,
The brutish malediction of his touch?
How could he stand to hurt me so,
When he knew I loved him so much?
And now the years have drained away
Like sweeping veils of rain;
The agony of our breaking apart
Ever haunts me with anguish and pain.
I still see him some times,
Rarely, truly out of the blue,
On the old territory of familiar streets
When unconsciously passing through.
And always shook by the stalking truth,
A lancing bright-bladed knife,
And with dogmatic aching my heart lets me know
He was always the love of my life.
And I know there's no sense to be had
When I look to the heavens above,
Just the sad and lonely heart of the matter:
You never can choose whom to love.
Copyright © Tony Bush
Elegy to Child Lost
Passion's love oft tempts despair
Casts a prideful cosmic dare--
Like Prizing Joy's most intimate caress
Babe snug beneath a mother's breast
Senses at this time are keen
There's no secret kept between
Loving mother, wriggling babe--
Wanted , dreamed of, much delayed
But entwined twin was also loved--
Some say Nature's method proves
That one twin may give all to mate---
But this fatal sacrifice must decimate.
Only mother's eyes would feel babe's smiles--
or sense those legs that wandered miles
And daring feet that danced in tunes while
Arms swam in gentle Celtic croons.
When babe vanished--not a sound.
Mother 's grief was not allowed.
Tempted so to trail behind
Escaping shattered troubled mind.
Squelching sorrow's hungry arms
She Tried erase babe's fluttering charms
Never spoke of-- never mourned.
By her husband she was warned
Was best forget a child so early lost--
Funerals, gravestones--such a cost--
But the years have called babe near,
Mother's journal writ in tears:
'Please forgive my selfish heart.
Repressed from all --this tragic part
I felt your sacrificial act--
You left your cherished twin intact'.
There is no law of random acts
Doctors examine data facts
It may be --that in the womb
When both spring flowers cannot bloom
One bold twin refrains to eat
Compels the other to complete
Hardy growth that life requires---
Sparks survival's crucial hours.
Not an accident 'tis sure--
Boldest spirits blossom pure.
Victoria Anderson-Throop ©
Copyright © Victoria Anderson-Throop
You have my soul, but you have your fate
Whatever your words, I’m willing to take
You have my word; I’ll give you my breath
It’s like a chain that would never be break
You are my love with all my heart,
I’ll fight for you with all my might.
And in the way, you admire your goals,
You hold my hands, but not so close.
As you go to your chosen path,
I’ll accept the fact that we will be apart.
In the dark side, I leave behind
Within my faith, that you’ll arise
Please don’t look back, coz I’m fighting still
I’m hurting so much! Don’t want to have you near
I accept my fate for what it does,
I’m bleeding so much, do you know for whom it was?
You reach your goals, as you want to have,
Would you remind the man that gave what he had?
As you reach the stars, and be the one
Be a sun that shines its own.
After the rain, the rainbow comes,
Like dark in the moon, when the light flash
A glimpse from you at least a short
For then I knew my pain is worth.
Copyright © Emmanuel Fajutagana
Hammer Sickle Ding Dong,
Vladimir Putin thinks he’s King Kong.
He conquered Crimea in a day.
Obama said: “What The Hey!
Doesn’t Vlad know that’s just plain wrong?”
Copyright © Jerry Stevenson
Millions of lives and souls untold
And to account it all
Words, lines, films
A sliver of soft, scarlet ribbon
Writers flare with passion so strong
Filling minds with fantasies, reveries, histories
We consume it all like freshly baked bread
We feed until we are engorged and fed
A viral, universal mess
Ideas and unmade memories
Nothing more or less
My eyes remain glued to the screen
Living it all out
Tears dare to flow—to doubt
I should have thought of that
Can I truly let myself believe,
Someone else lived that!
Pound away your directors, script-writers, fighters
For miles and miles of stories remain unread
While the unknown remain in the grounds of humble malnourishment
Careers for the mind with a twist of the fable
Left us savage for the meal and the crumbs under the table
I can never let the raw truth rest
Naked, bare and empty—soothed
Nothing more or less
I cringed for originality
Observed the world through the unedited scripts
The very act, the poetry pact
The wild animal drooling in the back
I was slapped in the face by my boss who had cracked
As the reviews bloated less and less
They wanted something awful, something flaw-ful—something new
And this empty brain in agony—HISSED
I have lived in no epic battle of account
Of the collateral sufferings of my brothers
The stories the red carpet smothers
And still I ache to create
Before the other ones discover
I returned with ‘‘oh me’s’ and ‘oh my’s’’
With a work of pure genius—a storybook of lies
Nothing more or less
Little have I lacked to dream
Of contortioned pulls and dramatic fire
Stories that rarely brittle or tire
I fiddled with precious glass on edge
Foully eager for self-damage
As if it would trigger some legitimate spark
Searching for creatures and features in the dark
No one unlocked the passage that night
For the starving idea-parched malice of right
But all welcomed with open arms
A pale mannequin filled with jewels and charms
Consuming, fuming dooming
All ghosts hoping, screaming, looming
Hoping that one day they would find themselves on the big screen
Their legacy real as it can possibly get
Nothing more or less
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal
I was born in a world of poverty and soiled life of a third world country
The way I lived till I was five years of age was walls of boundary
These walls had towers of guards that had no heart or care
If a child would try to climb the wall they lose their life I swear
Father had drank and threatened my mother with a knife
My father lost his job and wife and that was the hardship of life
He stopped my mother from taking off with me in her arm
Hoping that my father would ignore and left me be with no harm
When my father went off to drink one night and came home with rage
My brothers stood by my crib and took a beating that set up the next stage
My father had woken up to three scared children half starved and in pain
His final words as he walk away from the orphanage gate live life do not go insane
I was still a baby in the orphanage; the caretakers did not really care about the babies
They stole items and materials those wicked men and maternal evil ladies
They starved all the babies because it cost a lot to keep them alive
As a child of that age I could feel the sins and greed that gave out bad vibes
I was ignorant about what I drank and ate, as I see white maggots move in my bottle
As I see them move I thought about how they were playing and some were hostel
They ate each other to keep each other alive in a manner that took me by surprise
In the back round I hear others throwing things with sounds of painful cries
I got very strong at a young age I was able to start pulling myself up over the cage
My feelings were to see my brothers with strong lungs that I cried out of rage
My two brothers came to see me and sneak food into my crib
The caretaker would find the food in my hands as they grabbed it and hit me on my ribs
As painful as it was I kept eating the food with blood in my mouth as it was instinct
I sometimes laid in my crib dazed and confused with smell of death so distinct
With all my might I kept myself strong and climb the small wall
I finally was old enough to get out of the building and I could hear my brothers call
With tears of joy with short legs that ran as fast as my heart
I ran to my brothers arms and held their hands to have a new start
I grew stronger everyday but more things came into my life in a manner of dismay
If my brothers stay by my side I could smile and everyday their would be okay
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast
The loss of innocence.
Little folk come out to play
Alive and filled with joy.
Whilst evil folk with ugly minds
They seek out to destroy
Sweet innocence, with poison acts
To gratify their lust
They create from children’s innocence
An outcast without trust.
A happy world, all filled with joy
That’s how it’s meant to be
These kids should be like rivers
Alive and running free
Yet evil men destroy their souls
And teach them, life is bad
And as they reach maturity
Their live are so, so sad.
Butterflies don’t come no more
And birds no longer sing
There’s only fear within their souls
What joy then can life bring?
Sweet young children made to love
How can they suffer so?
I just don’t know!!!!
How can the world not care enough
To put a stop to this
I guess that some would shrug it off
And say ‘that’s how it is’
But in the end lord Karma comes
And the future looks real grim
Those children well may rule someday
With minds made cruel and dim.
Copyright © Peter Duggan
Guns don't kill people, people do. I have lost a loved one
because of you.
I will hear no more footsteps coming down the hall, no more
fingerprints on my wall.
No more laughter, no more tears. No more memories in the
How does it make you feel inside, not knowing if the person
you shot, has lived or died?
Whether you're in a gang, or you stand as one. You're not
that big without a gun.
What if I had went wild, and the gun I shot had wounded or
killed your child?
Our situations would be the same. Two individuals fighting a
never ending game.
The message here is very clear....
You shoot me, I shoot you...Guns don't kill people, people do.
Copyright © Anissa Turner
Born into poverty
Instead of heraldry
Disappointment struck me glum
Square peg in a round hole
Ends up on the dole*
Got no money and I want some
My nights of abandon
Were strictly rationed
Contraception isn't cheap
Then into these drab nights
No warmth and no lights
Fed up of counting sheep
You came and you stained
the sheets and the bed frame
Your self indulgence left me sore
You left me white
and a terrible sight
But still I craved for more
But if I had money
You'd stick with me honey
You wouldn't leave me in this mess
But I'm just a pauper
Can't support a daughter
(Finances) stretch to a budgie at best
Well she cut her hair
and dated a millionaire
Splashing cash has such allure
But, he beats her senseless
Then buys her a new dress
She's not happy, but she's 'secure'
He has and I have not
I want what he's got
The irony is - I had it once
He went to Cambridge and Eton
He's got me down and beaten
He's left me feeling such a dunce
The moral then sonny
Is those who have money
Will always get the best of both worlds
So if your not rich
Then life's a b***h
So go find yourself a rich girl
*old fashioned term for social security payments in the UK.
[This is actually a song rather than a poem, which I wrote almost 30 years ago - when I was full of angst and acne! Can't find or remember the music I wrote for it though - shame]
Copyright © David Sollis
I want to drown my urge to die
I want to kill my pulse inside
I can't breathe, I'm paranoid
Everything in life I avoid
Don't speak to me, I'll look away
Inside my eyes is just decay
I'm already dead, but have yet to die
Why do I keep my body alive
My soul is dead, eyes are lies
So is the smile I hide behind
Pull the plug, I'm a fake
In a nightmare and I cannot wake
Drown me! I'm flooded in pain
Please help me regain
Some peace, some rest
I want to die to live again
Set me free
Slitting my wrists isn't working
The more stares I get
The more I become numb
I just need to be gone
Eliminate my pain,
I'm already out of breath
Suffocating on my hopelessness
Every day I am alive
But I'm craving to die inside
Curved smile because your so naive
You think I'm happy
Yet I'm being crushed
My head is overflowing
With these thoughts that are too much
One word, suicide
Sparks a light inside of my eyes
I don't want to pretend to live
Let me go, flood me in sin
There is where I want to swim
Six feet under the ground
Don't be selfish
And keep me in pain
To tourture my lifeless body again
Let my body float soundly
Rushing water, ocean salt
I promise I won't feel it at all.
End it, hold me under
Then bury me so I can slumber
Goodbye lifeless eyes
As I'm dying I'll be coming alive
Deleted from my mind
As I leave this world behind
Floods my lungs
Leans in for a kiss
Together we sink into insanity
And drown in infinitys abyss.
Copyright © Karissa Kelley
I stay in my own lane,
of the train,
Don't care about
Just trying to
make a name,
So when the gun
who lies in the aim?
who dies when it flames
Two lives in the drain,
Who dies from the pain,
Who cries from the gang
Who lies when detained
Who says they were framed
from blowing out
Tears flowing from the sane,
The shooter is deranged
his new domain
But really who's to blame
Family crying from the pain
Funeral is not the same
Who will cry when they sang?
That's when the gun bangs..
Copyright © Jesse Pickens
In time, days, months to years
Is the failure of relationships
In January to July to December
And the shallow of rivers
In July, August to September
The destruction by earthquakes
In January, February to December
The reshuffle of accidents
In lakes, roads and in air
The manufacture of acids, guns, and robots
In laboratories, industries and employment areas
The color of rainbows
Blue, green, grey
The personality of people
Conceited, gloomy, temperamental
The training of soldiers, students, and also religions
In academy, schools and institutes
The birth of children
Over years and years all over the world
The truth of lies
In homes, schools up to work places
Copyright © Masereka Amos
"There must be some kinda way to find out here"
Said the seeker to the stealer
"There's too much confusion
I'm struggling to be the reveal"
"Conglomerate men, they drink my wine
Politicians dig my earth
None will level on the line
Because none of them are worth it" hey
"There is reason to get excited"
The seeker, he kindly spoke
"There are many here among us
Who feel our governments a joke"
"Now you and I, we've lived through this
And this is not our fate
So let us not talk falsely now
The hour is getting late", hey
All along the watchtower
Liars kept the view
While all the women came and went
Barefoot servants too
Outside in the cold distance
The C.I.A. did growl
Two riders were approaching
And the wind began to howl, hey
All along the watchtower
All along the watchtower
All along the watchtower on that tragic September day
We need some investigation, for someones has to pay
Now you and I, we've lived through this, and this is not our fate
So let us not talk falsely now, before this generations to late
We will always remember, and remember who we lost that day
We need some investigation, for someone has to pay
All along the watchtower, a nation in mournful cries
We are not so blind, it's amazing what you can see when you close your eyes
All along the watchtower
All along the watchtower
James, we lost you in Kensington, England. The Star Spangled Banner will
live long in your past. I can't say the same for some of your American so
called country people. Thank you for allowing me to gracefully use . . . .
'All Along the Watchtower' it's blatantly obvious someone was not.
To all the lost in the 9/11 tragedy, my thoughts will always be with you.
All Along The Watchtower by Jimi Hendrix, with some lyrics changed
Copyright © James Fraser
Dedicated to those who have been suffering from fits in my Country
Invisible, bound to dwell in a separate dim world of strange things,
Why possess human beings transforming them into ghosts and prisons
Where Strange games of fits, deliquium, howling images of black cats
And owls daily govern exposing to hallucinations, nakedness and death?
Dla, November 17, 2014
Jaafar Sadig el Waad
Copyright © Jaafar Sadig El Waad
The sun has set upon the hills
The moonlight glares as my body
Awaits the embrace of dreams.
My mind wanders, my thoughts drift
A noise stirs in the silence,
The crash foreshadows more.
A scream—is it my mother?
A boom, more yelling too,
A thud, is that my brother?
The men invade my room
I follow them and do as I’m told,
Kill them, they say, and hand me a knife.
I feel the fear in my family’s eyes,
My chance for life rests in their destruction
I give into my captors’ demand,
Coating my hands in unwashable stains.
My leaders delight in my compliance,
The tallest one turns to me
He motions to leave.
I step into the cold night,
I’m alone and shaking, my eyes leak,
My masters join me; both grinning
The stinging in my head is a joy.
Copyright © Devin Irving
Tonight, on the news!
If it bleeds it leads
and soon we ignore it.
Another young girl dead
and found in a local field.
What twisted genes can
evoke such pain?
Embarrassed to be male,
is what I claim,
and yet I know
in the dark corners
of our souls lurk
Old lady in Orinda
raped and murdered.
News for the day and
now, our normal
Like primates on the
we nudge the bodies,
and go on about our
Copyright © ahellas Alixopulos
My hearts starting
And it will no
When your soft skin
Even though it took
To begin a new found
And have someone
Me in a way I don't
Since that night
left me without
My good safety
When he kicked down
my front door
And attacked me
I was frozen with
After he finished
I was going to get
But for hours he
Leaving me broken
Alone and naked on
out the door
Days and months went
With years of
therapy to try
And get me out of
This cruel rapist
left me in
It would always take
To this sad, hurtful
When a guy would
start to stare
All I could see was
That I felt way down
That would open up
If someone new would
My heart turned to
ice and froze
No one could ever
The pain from years
of life I lost
Brushed my arm and I
No pictures of his
And the torture of
All I felt was warm
Filling me up with
As I saw your eyes
Helping my heart
thaw to find
A new life with
Would carefully help
Bringing me back
from the dead
The past fading from
Copyright © robin davis
Misery Laid Upon Soft Kindled Pine
The great Judge marks this hour at noon
bright was this day in month of June
A kinship richly felt with wooded glen
saddened by the evil in hearts of men
A fierce battle for land was fought
death reigned supreme all for naught
Blood splashed upon the limbs and leaves
sorrow grips as each family grieves
Dead feel not the heat of burning Sun
no real glory felt by those that won
Misery laid upon softly kindled pine
vultures fly waiting to come to dine
The carnage shook the stars on high
time not given from sweet good-byes
An unwelcome breeze stings this land
all for naught, but evil in death's hand
The great Judge marks this day of pain
as tears fall ,victims lay in dashing rain
A new day awaits the glory of hope sent
forgiveness for the wasted lives spent
June birds now flitter, renewing song
lives so saddened move right on along
Human spirit always racing to survive
rarely embracing joy of just being alive
Returning Sun shines upon life and all
man's fate is to live then greatly fall
Other journeys await in mystical realms
so many great ships, captains and helms
09, 15, 1977
note: I have little memory of why I wrote this one
back then. Perhaps a book I read, movie I watched
or blues that wrapped me so often during that time.
Copyright © Robert Lindley
I do not know?
Everywhere we turn in this world is about violence and gangs,
Everyone thinking they are cool because they can hang,
Until one day someone gets shot,
And no one gets caught,
Police don’t give a care,
Every night I have to say a prayer,
Begging God to let me live through the day,
Jumping out of harms way,
Living in the hood,
Seems all good,
But people don’t understand what goes on,
People hoping to wake up to the first light of dawn,
But only to go back to the streets,
Only to show off their heat,
No one seeking peace up in here,
You have kids drinking beer,
People doing drugs,
Acting cool, because they think they’re a thug,
This may seem like a bother,
But I’m always going to my father,
Seeking Gods way,
Just so I can hopefully stay,
Trying so hard to stay out of trouble,
Waking up to a neighborhood in rubble,
Noticing how gangs have taken over,
Picking up a lucky clover,
Wishing to keep my life for one day,
When I saw my friend laid to rest,
I made a vow to do the best,
When I saw my friend get shot in the head,
Wishing I would never drop dead,
Maybe some day the violence will end,
Only if we can stop the violent trends……….
Copyright © Sean Alexander
As i spit, the fire blazes off of my tongue, burns this love of anger inside of me
the sunny warmth of this heart seeks out what bestows me
and i continue to depict life in a red hue
so as i walk down the streets, red chucks on my feet and a red jansport backpack, i see
these kids on smack
and im thinking, damn, all high on the mainstream of life that such bitterness has
constrained them. That's not where i want to be
but as i continue to walk along this side of the sidewalk, the redness in these curtains
bleed and convey me, control me, compel me, intimidate me
And now I am lost. Absorbed into the brightest of red.
I represent RED.
So as I enter the doorsteps of this home,
the blue skies fade away,
and turn this dullness into gray.
As I take the first step through the door,
broken dishes scatter alongside every broken tint
of blue that rushes out of the tub,
palms raise and screams ring throughout my eardrums.
Such fate of tears I cannot unwind.
Take the shelter on this side of the sidewalk underneath the ocean sky
along with my family built by society.
We must hold strong together,
we must defend each other when in need and through struggles.
Bring forth the blue of the day.
I represent BLUE.
They walk along the lines.
I must walk in the middle.
They are bright with emotions.
I must dim myself out of respect.
In the royal purple chambers of loyalty
i sit in the middle of the road
not to disclaim their obstruction,
but to prevent it for change.
To seek out greater intelligence
and proclaim that life does not end
just because of society.
The consistence of this eager swells
Copyright © Krystilla Cha
Man whose that chick over there repping blue
thinking she can come up here and mess with my man.
Don't she know who she's messing with?
i got to show her wassup.
Can't come up in my territory
thinking she owns this place.
Who she think she is?
Such violence rises
Gosh that chick over there
look like she want to start something.
Need to call up the boys.
She don't know who she's messing with
and what she's about to get herself into.
Do she know who I am?
As these gangs and violence mix like water and oil,
full confrontation blend and war is reborn.
This division of color
leaves them blind to see what is really there.
To see who is really there.
More people die everyday
because one person chooses to allow that effect,
chooses to allow that resentment,
chooses to allow that hatred.
Red tears fill the ocean young souls swim in
just because, YOU claim another color.
May 19, 2007. I was murdered on the front steps
of my door. My little brother still remembers
the day i fell on my back.
May 30, 2007. I was murdered at my niece's birthday
party at the park because THEY thought that
I shot HER.
My last visual was seeing her blow our her candles
and making a wish.
June 1, 2007. I sit here in this room.
Between two cousins, two lifeless bodies.
One shot at home, the other shot at the park.
Such lust for regret represses
Copyright © Krystilla Cha
Look to your left - Look to your right
Someone you’re looking at - Has paid the price
Either personally - Or through past generations
Yet still today, we have - Hurts and frustrations
Pioneers of the land - The Marches that went forth
For so many people - To be able to freely walk the earth
Young people pick up a book - Earn some knowledge
Get off the street corners - And into classrooms of a University or College
Pay it forward - Give it back
Education is key - Its not whack
Learn your heritage - From where you come
Know that this is - God’s home
Past struggles - Present issues
Hold your head high - Keep working toward your vision
There is something I don’t understand - Through every thing in the past
Why do our young brother’s - Kill one another
How can you look into the eyes - Of another human being
Pull the trigger - How can you be so mean?
Our people along with other races - Fought for our rights
To be able to live a fair life - I can’t fathom the reasoning of this strife
So many killings - Day after day
Brother killing brother - This just isn’t the way
Too many people have died - And sometimes it seems in vain
Because what we see on the news everyday or experience in life
Is completely insane!
Can someone explain to me - The mindset of our youth
I’m perplexed - So I’m looking for the truth
Why is there genocide? - So many homicides
And there is no hesitation - About the lives being taken
It angers my heart - It angers my soul
That people can so easily kill - That people are so bold
People listen to me - When I tell you
The Civil Rights Movement - Was to see us through
To get us to a better place - Although discrimination and racism still exists
It is very prevalent - With the Jena 6
Gang violence has taken the life - Of an innocent 10-year old boy
My prayers go out to the family - Of little Arthur Jones
Gun shots ring out - Now 14-year old Samuel is dead
Gun man came back in anger over a bike - And shot this young man in the head!
I lost my own brother this year (2007) - Because of senseless gun violence
And it’s getting worse too - R.I.P. little bro, we love you Cinque
U.S. Troops fighting a War - Overseas in Iraq
Make no mistake about it - Many have paid the price
IT IS TIME to walk through the door - Of a brand new light
We are a powerful people - When we stand together and fight
Not fight as in violence - But to have regard for human life
Never forgetting - Many paid the price
Copyright © Yolanda Jackson
I do not know?
Looking out with apathy as strong as currents from the greatest seas. Destined to roam yet destinies free lost within the symphonic ballad containing all of lives mysteries. Will we ever see what we were ment to be or are we trapped within our self created Fantasy.
Screaming down from up above all of them calling "blood for blood" covering the cries from within being sure to never allow them to win. Within the blink of an eye and the burning within, turning tranquility to violence and violence will spread leaving those who oppose feeling hopless, dead. Suppressed by the sovereignty we are buried by power.In the end it's me,perhaps even we, who must begin to fear what humanuty will grow to be..
Copyright © Jess Smith
I do not know?
Stop the Violence
not in silence
Lot the wild is
on the street crying
trying to grab a grip
something to eat
Flying back at tip
of the wing the system
blinding the kids with a backwards
education defining deprivation
of a freedom promise to all
who live on the land as equal
yet currency confuses the category
Manners Glory Honor one another
as Kings and Queens should
Acknowledge the blessings
Forgiveness is hard yet
as the humble make it out the jungle
Copyright © Christopher Coke