The Suit Of Hatred - Poem by Barbara Langford
Generations of hatred passed on like
An old suit out dated, but left to
Possessing characteristics of it's owner
It hangs hidden in the closet so no one
will ever know.
In it's pocket beats the heart of a gold
watch keeping time
Of the days and ways of slavery that the
world has left behind.
Although the threads now ravel and it's
color fades from age
It remains hidden it the closet where it's
hatred turns to rage.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You