Poetry Corner: Brown Tribulation

The truth spoke to me and hit my heart

Hoping one day we get far.

Misconception to truth,

Asking for freedom nowadays is like pulling a tooth.

No anesthesia

Can’t numb the pain of generation curses

Wish I could let my pen bleed all this out in cursive.

Sympathetic to everyone else’s problems

Who gone save me from thyself

Wishing I could see my brother

Sometimes I blame myself.

Prayer, resilience and seeking answers

To questions ignored.

If only I would have saved him If only,

who is to know?

Inequalities

Fit every minority,

This game ain’t fair.

Real problems not suited for anyone to bare.

The ones suffering,

our brothers, Fathers, uncles and more.

Set to fail in this systematic cycle

Fighting for better more.

The drums to our revolution

Play our freedom near.

Soon, wait a bit more and Endure,

For it all soon will be clear.

Life of He, Victor, A Brown King,

In the U.S pen.