A POEM IS THE SOUL DESYIR TO BE HEARD

My African skin.ones people get under it they never come out.never find the exit.they romp around and round filling my inside with what i may or may not want,
They've made much noice,using my deafness as their cover up.

They've utterly exhausted me,so much so that my black African skin is worn by their heels rubbing from inside and i prayed'give me a chance to breath its all impossible'

Theres a great population stuck in my own small heart,cops and officials are needed to keep the peace tgere.i've gone a little cracked for there in that secluded shade'

I've dropped non of my morals and values,and non have left me,
The only thing i've lost it my outside appearance but that on the inside cant never be lost.

Evry one i have ever known.saw.kissed and huged have imerged within my inside.A secred conflagration without flame.

The repossision of the unpossessable its like a waterfall that rushes upwards and those who have died have been born again.


My population is too large
My memories are too great
Their beyond the strength of just a great AFRICAN child
But then again

A person would be incomplete if he contains no others'

Thats the thought that frightens me,that i think they would all shrink and disappear.

But fear dines into me.,,,

Write
Write and
Write
Before my very soul vanishe inside me.