Kayla Black Poet I do not know?

Blood

Blood.
As it streams through my veins,
It has history and ancestry.
Blood.
As I look her in the face,
 I see those that are apart from me.
Blood.
Streaming down my face, 
A fight with another race.
Blood.
Screaming is my mouth saying,
“Why does this have to be my …”
Blood.
I want new,
Blood.
With no history of slaves, with no history of chains,
With no history of ropes, with no history of hopes,
Blood.
Holding big clumps of her hair,
Wondering why she’s lying there 
In her own pool of …
Blood.
In the other hand a knife,
Hold up, this can’t be right,
And why is it covered in her…
Blood.
I find her words have angered, I find her words have torn.
I find her actions have killed my pride.
She’s unleashed those years of beatings, those years of rapes.
Those years of no eating and spit in the face.
Those years of hatred, those years of tears.
Discrimination because we didn’t have the same…
Blood.
Now I am locked up because, 
This one has unleashed those years of racism and hatred.
Now I am locked up because,
This one has blocked up the forgiveness I felt for the words from her mouth.
Now she’s blacked out.
Not to see another day,
Not to hear another sound.
Now she’s blacked out.
Not to say another word or to curse me because,
We do not share the same…
Blood.

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment