Michelle Freeman

Rookie - 19 Points (18 May 1978 / Barbados)

Black/Depression - Poem by Michelle Freeman

It is not a complexion,
It is not a colour,
Just a hole: a never-ending, bottomless hole.

You know what happens
When you reach the bottom – you die.

My life is black, with flashes of colour.
People are formless, with wide, oppressing mouths.

It seems to be a tunnel,
It seems to be a pit,
But it’s just a hole – a never-ending, bottomless hole.

Thursday,3rd June 2004

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, May 8, 2010

Poem Edited: Saturday, March 26, 2011

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