Just because I wear one shirt for the entire week, doesn't mean I'm broke.
And it definitely does not define my individuality nor the scent of my skin,
I show you what I think you deserve to see and not what you expect to see me in,
For my existence is not to please another and that! Sadly for you are the words I chose to spoke,

As if I ought to wear dreadlocks,
it would not be required of me to await your approval,
To appear in such a manner nor any other which will dis-satisfy you at all,
For I'm definitely not worth your insults or any mocks.

Compare me to a bloodsucking vampire,
But I know that deep within me that my morals are not compatible with any attempt to ruin another's empire.
I am the encyclopedia of a million rain drops descending from heaven,
For I derive from a parallel universe designed to ensure the captivity of a poetic demon.

The crude emancipation of my own existence,
Are but a reincarnation to the scent of a dying slave and his very essence.

This poem is about: 
Our world


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