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*
Copyright © Leben Panashe Kabete | Year Posted 2019
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