Charleston

Learn more about other poetry terms

“He had a mental illness” There’s stillness in the air You don’t even know his name All your excuses are the same   Where are the SWAT teams? Why aren’t police bursting at the scene?
  race riots race wars what the heck is going on   
I  am crumpled. I am tumbling through a busy street- not lifted by this wind but dragged.   I  am breathing. I am lucky the paper bag is about
I've been told that the world is not rainbows and sunshine. That's fine. But what is it do you want this world to be?   Because everything in this world is the same:
Why is there more hatred than love Why do I not see help from above Why are we viewed as despicable punks  Why do they only put us in cuffs?   Why do I see a racial divide
I am a high-class Charlestonian. Reside in a mansion right down the street, you know the name, Trad House. Famous in all its history, my priceless humble abode.
Subscribe to Charleston