Sat, 10/22/2016 - 02:25 -- NIckyG

Killers of the light

Killers of the path

Conquistadors of our control

Conquistadors of our hope

Rulers of our moves

Rulers of our words

Kings of our gratitude

Queens of our bloom


Slaves of ours

Working extreme hours

Humans we are

Animals we command


Doesn't’t matter how low we are

Doesn't’t matter how high they are:

we will always be on top;

or so we believe


Black eyes, huge bruises, bloody noses

        cold, hungry, ill

       shattered heart

cold stone

     warm, full, healthy

       Make up, glowing skin, jewelry


Peoples of the so called “worthless kin”;

survived- it’s time to fight

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 


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