Voice Poise

This is my voice in your tongue,
A fresh voice with no fresh breath,
This is the melody of my feelings,
But you think it lacks a meaning,
Lived in life of less meaning.My voice a rug rat,
Resulting from sweet deeds,
Deeds of a merciless being,
Born and thrown into the ocean,
Ocean deep with engulfing end,
Now I’m found present in every street.My rumble a street soldier,
Curbing people by their necks,
Ripping off their laced necks,
Bad luck is when they retreat away,
Some gang up for mob justice,
And I end up facing scars of justice.

I’m deep into the ocean,
With no fish with wisdom of correction,
What they do is to cover my recognition,
They’re busy cutting down my planktons,
Crushing the heads of my stars,
I don’t have a platform but arts,
I make them drown in my open wording.

That’s why I’ve recollected my life,
Picked up shards of broken pottery,
Given them the room of mockery,
Collected the pieces of my shattered life,
Given up holding a toy riffle and a knife,
I’m nolonger holding grudges,
Because my food is your leftovers and trash,
Penniless my food is the dirt from your brush,
Don’t blame me because my home is the streets.

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