A Sonnet To a Sable Poet's Pen

A Sonnet to a Sable Poet’s Pen (Apropos Disrespected, Suspected, Neglected and Rejected) I want to write poems of flowers and birds; Fragrant poems singing beautiful words; Poems praising the ebb and flow of evening tides Splashing shores searching where love abides; But my pen refuses to ink such seemingly simplicity. My pen refuses to ignore today’s blatant iniquities. I must write for and to those blinded by the cataracts of injustice; Those who suffer deafness from cancer of abject prejudice— Immobilized by sclerosis of uncontrollable apathy: That coveted placebo that placates infectious pity. Yes, I must write wailing words decrying flowing blood in the street; Leaving sobbing sad sable mothers with only dried tears to weep. This pen of mine must mark our time of vigilance and what was neglected; I must write poems of reality—how down the years our liberty they rejected.