My inspiration;
I dream of a nation
where the implantation
of dreams ceases all death-
to hungry slaves, those crying
babes, on mommy's sunburnt
knobbly thighs. And in divine truth lies
an interrupted sigh by the girl with wide eyes
who sits in a room in which Big Brother ensues...
These words spoken by scholars who want my golden
dollars, my earned debt, my love and respect, how do we go on?
How do I prove wrong to those bodies standing higher preaching to a
double bladed choir...ready to make words.
but what?