Bloods

The bloods of disdain became apparent over time
I'd have trekked a million hells only to say it wasn't mine
And the rough terrain was rocky and ill structured like we;
Found lost, exposed, and alone each time

The bell of one life tolled and began anew
A life of painted crime and horror ensued
The count of consequence and lesson again replayed
But how many were still ordered by gods to be due?

We clung to love, for what was else?
Just love, while plummeting down the well
And hitting ground each time we knew
The path to redemption, but in life could never tell

So again I'm reborn but never healed in a birth
And weak on arrival, my infant secrets nearly unearthed
The bloods of disdain multiply, for my one unchanging flaw
Inability to tell why bloods still fail to reach an end or expose our worth.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world

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