Sadly saw this post a little late and I am unable to upvote it, however I would still like a chance to enter;
Poetry and I come a very long way and it is ingrained within me, as a deep seated passion, here is one of my more recent pieces as well as a link for your listening pleasure:
I Stand In Hope!
Stature of history are rooted in cultures,
as politicians do their rounds like circling vultures,
feeding from the corpses of fallen dreams,
while decaying flesh dangles, from their talons and wings.
Can they not see the sunsets of the African skies?
Can they not smell the rain as the clouds roll on by?
Are they blinded by illusions of their falsely scripted laws,
of this nation in hope, without probable cause?
People are spoon-fed on their governed demands,
the administrations of morals are raped,
as legislations cut of its hands.
Propaganda’s rolled in syrup,
and served as a buffet,
while ambivalent spectators,
admire the spectacle on display.
Does their distorted views of self-righteous act,
leave much room to keep hope in tact?
Can they not feel the rhythm of this African heart,
over cries of this nation, so torn apart?
NO LESS,
I stand here hopeful, in this fields of blood and bone
NO LESS,
I stand here hopeful, and I do not stand alone
@breezin you're still within the 7-day window, so your poem is accepted)
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