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My ink is my blood

Lick these writings of mine  
Let my ink stain your taste buds 
Can you stand the taste of my pain?

Wounded by the sharpness of thy mind       i bleed continually- my ink is 
my blood
The words of my qull flow from my vein

I'm standing below the poverty line
Will manna fall from above?
There's no nourishment in the rain    

The freedom I search for is yet to find 
I want to be free like a dove
Free my brain from the mental chain    

Racism should be once up on a time
Pour me hate and i dilute it with love 
Hate me with passion- what's your gain?



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  1. Date: 7/27/2014 9:11:00 PM

    A passionate poem, I can surely say I loved it, great write!