Poetry for peace, heritage poem

in stories •  5 years ago 

heri po.jpg

I cant imaging a war zone in a place that I call home, my dreams I wouldn't believe if I would dream of what I can't be, like love you long for, but not meant for you, not that it cant be yours, then scholarships had faces, now over 20 years free, my brother just signed a deal, he be 20, no record recking his brains that once he couldn't do this, but history remains like marks on a slaves back, as a memory of what once was in my land, now I move freely beating this on this drums with my band, praying my heart opens up, really am praying for wisdom, father name me your son, engrave my name into every stone, I want history to call my name, say that I am a hero, coz my words have made me free.

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