Born of Life

Drum beats inside black bare hairy chests Tradition hidden in treasure chests Chess played on mother earth , sounds like home Home grown sounds ringing throughout the neighborhood Stomachs kneeling and praying for food Fathers crossing boarder lines and going for good Living life behind the calabash Brothers behind bars Mother's beauty behind scars The sacred statue of mother Theresa caresses those in prisons Prisons of the mind can never be unlocked Smoke in the nearby village , culture is burning Village heads lay their heads on village grief The village thief steals at noon And then the slave hunters Lurking in expensive Futures perishing like sinners in hell Let me not breath the air that sinners inhale I come from light I am pain I come from life *STREETPO3TRY*