The South - Poem by Junius Barnes
The south, cotton fields holds dreams that.
make children scream.
Holds the, untold truth that makes your bones.
rattle like snake. While drank wine hear the cries
while little child dies.
The south, hearts of evil people put a veil over life.
Hate of evil people kill the fate of good people.
My soul bake I’m steam full of hate.
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