Felicia Branch Poems

Is there such a thing as a perfect world?
A place without diseases and unknown cures?
A place without crime, taking lives that aren't mine.
A place where things can't be wasted...like time.
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A star within itself imploded.
Gravity at its end, erroded.

All light ceases to exist.
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Blackness is something you shouldn't hide. We're filled with fortitude, power, robustness, and pride. The Blackness you tried to slaughter and demonize. Filling history with blasphemous actions and lies.

Your forefathers tried to cut our tongues. You ripped our parents from their young. Scientifically accused us of being dumb. We rose, we conquered, and fought as one.
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