Recorded Or Ongoing


The rage of my ancestors,
are stored within the genes of our mountains;
A submissive chemical mix,
poured from a frustrated,
embattled fountain;
Continental Drift, organises, social divide
and segregation;
Monarchy, Cartels,
Schools Of Thoughts,
and other prominent institutions;
Braille can't excuse my
impaired emotions;
The gift of sight,
plays blind,
and leads to mankind's,
destruction;
Where am I?
At this crossroads, Past and Present meets;
A graphic, triangular course,
I'm docked at the bay of
Columbus's Fleets.
Overslept ........................!

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem