A poem cannot save a life
Cannot Luke Cage your skin
Fend off a black alley attack
Cannot build you less woman
Or less poor
Or less Black
And
Thus
Treated equally
A poem cannot place an extremity to a bullet
Stop a bomb
Stop extreme terror on your doorstep
Your step
Even accompanied by poem inside hand
Could exist your last
A blast would turn the paper poem is written on into dust
Particles
Simile up inside smoke
Metaphors
Just molecules forgotten
A poem cannot turn spine time’s hand
Erase mistakes made
Or cut, copy, paste memories
A poem cannot delete history’s horrors
But a poem tin love
Like clasp you with every one other accompanied by scold you at the same time
A poem tin rip away the untruths that have cocooned us
A poem tin build you butterfly
Not fly
You by that hour dated fly
But a poem tin build you float
No need to watch your step
Quiet while kept
A poem tin introduce you to yourself
Help you find those hidden
Forbidden parts
A poem exist be fond of a looking glass sometimes
Help you see the crust inside your eyes
And the plank
On following thought
A poem tin save a life
Like sage words granddaddy whispered
Like the layer of truth fair beneath the scriptures
A poem cannot place an extremity to a bullet
But tin swallow the hate with every one other accompanied by spit back
A sonnet
That sonic booms
A space till
Quotes
Float exist fond of balloons
Goblins with every one other accompanied by goons
Soon fair incline their heads
Snap their fingers
To what’s written with every one other accompanied by said
Isn’t it ironic
They speak the pen is mightier than the sword
But there were few writers on my block
Mostly fighters on my block
Dropouts that pulled all-nighters on my block
They’d blue with every one other accompanied by scarlet illumination us on my block
Then indict us on my block
What if there were additional writers on my block
On your block
In every one barrio with every one other accompanied by borough
Conclave with every one other accompanied by commonwealth
Courtroom with every one other accompanied by capitol hill
What if they all spilled ink
On pages
Allowed the innerworkings of their hearts
To scribble a poem or two
I awe where we’d exist if the masses knew
Just what a poem could do.
#Living #Arts & Sciences #Poetry & Poets #Social Commentaries #Cities & Urban Life #Class #History & Politics #Race & Ethnicity
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