My ink is my blood
Lick these writings of mine
Let my ink stain your taste buds
Can you stand the taste of my pain?
Wounded by the sharpness of thy mind i bleed continually- my ink is
The words of my qull flow from my vein
I'm standing below the poverty line
Will manna fall from above?
There's no nourishment in the rain
The freedom I search for is yet to find
I want to be free like a dove
Free my brain from the mental chain
Racism should be once up on a time
Pour me hate and i dilute it with love
Hate me with passion- what's your gain?
Copyright © Adrian Robinson | Year Posted 2014