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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required by Michaelw1two What colour, does one think a soul, its fire our lives do need; purpose of it questionable, perhaps flesh, is shell for it's seed; determines in scope our natures', upon it human bodies feed; wisdom, bleeds to each through it; for most, its heaven's mead. Question raised, brings one to pause, soul is colourless of course; everyone who thinks different, is head deep, up the rear of a horse; concerning constants crudely plied, through media pundits source; soul’s diss, it’s colourless, tween blacks vs. whites, its overly coarse. Mind's blindness, caused by obscurities, defeating common thought; weakness spread continually, through edict, racial bias taught; life’s short ride is cheapened, humane relationships are fraught; ruin made by idea insane, wake up, all souls are heaven wrought! Clay and water is body physical, skin tone is providence blessed; source of living, heaven's manna, each feeds from Father's breast; antecedent is identified, you, are of earth, and Africa is your crest; marker, flesh makes no one special, souls roost in the same nest! Colours purpose is to shower, eyes view from heaven's throne; provide us as flowers, remember, from his hand all seed is sown; beautifying day’s horizon, for ‘Him’ as child’s knowledge is known; distinction, all a separate shade, for thought less we must atone. Jan 2010
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