The Cry of a Black Bird

Like a bird with a clipped wing,

They try to fly, but all they can do is sing,

they scream " I can't breath" as they die bye his knee,

They shout everyday " please, just notice me".

Imprisioned in a cage by the richness of their feather,

their souls have been whipped, they feel like leather.

The scars will never heal, they need to be exposed,

but as of now our eyes seem to be forever closed.


Our pasts entertwinned longing to be observed,

open your hearts, they need to be heard. 

This poem is about: 
Our world


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