…..All attempts to move only excites frustrations, although buried alive, I can hear loved one’s cries in heavy rotation, this is more than testing my patience, it’s designed to break a man’s spiritual cadence, an attempt to kill that still voice and internal maintenance; that same voice whispered in my ear, it said not to fight being in here, fighting restraints draws internal screams and my captors laughter, I hear my loved one’s screams for the pastor, slaps and smacks came after, those bastards put their hands on my grandson, buried alive cause I tried to be a man and protect him, this box is designed to teach me to fear and respect them, but upon my release I’ma kill every two legged beast in sight with a rectum.
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Author:
EvenwheniLie (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: November 29th, 2024 12:05
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 23
Offline)
Comments2
A dark poem with beautiful internal rhymes. This poem screams out for vengeance and justice.
Sometimes I get these images in my head I can’t stop thinking about until I write them down, thanks for reading..
The Mosquito Mafia
Got a lot to answer for
And their lieutenants
From Europe and Africa
To say nothing of Arabia
It’s been said that way back in the day
The European boreal forests
Were hunted for slaves
By ones from the South
Thank heavens
There is a beginning, middle,
And end
To everything except awareness
Of Being
We all are the being that’s being or not being, seeing or not seeing, but ultimately still being just unbeknownst… impact still is what it is; my attention is to open up minds to see itself.
I think you’re doing great work. The Being that’s being or not being - love it!
Thanks
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