Black Poetry : The Wretched Of The Earth

Discussion in 'Black Poetry - Get Your Flow On!' started by DigginThaShyne, Oct 29, 2002.

  1. DigginThaShyne

    DigginThaShyne Well-Known Member MEMBER

    Apr 10, 2001
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    Presenter of Words
    Hamlet,NC (The Middle of Nowhere)
    +3 / -0
    Here they stand,
    soldiers of fortune,
    their only treasure pain….
    years have passed,
    the wars are over,
    but the ghosts…the ghosts will always remain,
    straining the necks of their peace,
    and the nightmares won’t cease,
    boldly waking their fears, stealing their sleep,
    their release….converging themselves to despair,
    its breath is not cold, its stares do not bruise,
    it welcomes them, with open arms,
    the acceptance helps delude them into
    thinking they’ve overcome,
    to them, it’s better than their give reality,
    to some, it just labels them fatalities,
    ….the wretched of the earth,
    whose dreams are just blank formalities,
    who dig the dirt, bare hands,
    solemnly seeking what they can,
    regularly crossing the line of all that is sane,
    restless, reeling,
    unashamed, but not unfeeling,
    attempting to outrun time….in vain