Silence lambs it won’t be long
Blacked out facing mental slavery
Told to make do
Wilde nature whipped out
Baggage bound emancipated, no asylum
Only paid in thought, disregard reparations,
Face flushed hidden expressions
Incarcerated brother with good intentions
But guilty as usual why even interrogate
Centuries preventing redemption
Killed prophets, bystanders with blind eyes,
Short shrift, longer with each bat,
Woke up conscious.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A powerful poem, like it.