Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2012
Life is like a song;
If it has a beat,
It should live on.
Excuse me sir,
Something's wrong.

Let me be free;
Let me learn
Why my people
Should never burn.
What makes you supreme ?
Take away your hope to **** a dream.

Can't even fit
Name to face.
An inhumane
Human race.
Your bones are foreign,
Not yours anymore,
They're somewhere in blood on the floor.
Send you to the devils door.

My will to be
Will live through me
Brody Thompson
Written by
Brody Thompson  22/M/Canada
(22/M/Canada)   
606
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems