I Am A Work Of Art Poem by Tlou Romeo

Crafted from scares of mingled freedom, the image I give is of the ones that gave it to me. I carry on my shoulders the colour of my mother's womb. When I smile, not only do I portray the labour sweat dripping down her beaming face, but emerge a mark of undo to tearing hearts. Deep within me, It comes out like base drum of a love song, I inherited the voice of the voices. The sound of a man that sang me every night before my arrival songs of struggle, just to hear me kick back, signing freedom is coming tommorw. It's hard to not notice, the colour of my eyes, then you know I am a rainbow nation bundle. I am detailed to define. When I move I imitate the man grandmother vowed to in the era of 48. Analyze carefully, mark the marks of a born free. For I am a work of art.