Express yourself, even with sullen tears
In the eyes of their executioners.
Their hearts waxed cold from malice,
Will not see your fears,
Will not feel your sorrows;
So laugh and dance in the courts,
That flourish on fresh blood;
Stare them down with fire,
Hotter than judgment,
Burns in their sanctuaries.
Whether its summer or winter,
Spite of the oppressors nets.
Technologies taking some hostage,
Can't find a job in the streets.
Before some start,
They succumb to defeat.
Express yourself, one time, two time or three;
Injustice is not confined to foreign lands
And liberty is a scarce commodity.
So what if they murder these children?
All they care bout is the moneeey.
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Comments about this poem (Express Yourself by Buxton Shippy )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
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