The Circle I live in.

I know that I am a crack on the wall,

But this is my body and that is your body,

We’re just the same,

The difference is what they made you believe of  you’re,

Maybe that’s why we were never born as us

I was born alone and the status separated us,

That’s why you’re a log and I a crack,

Because Life is unfair they say,

You’re  poor today,

But rich after two days,

Corruption,

I was given birth into a secret circle,

A circle full of cycles of thoughts,

Instilled into dreaming,

But wondering,

Why was I born crying?

And not writhing,

Was I born a writer?

Or a fighter,

Why are there classes,

Of rich,

And others poor,

Why are there bright people?

And others unintelligent,

Why is the circle separated?

And people ignoble?

what does it take to be noble?

In this circle,

Are there still biblical miracles?

Or just fake prophecies,

Are there still good God mercies?

If they are,

Why are people dying?

And poor crying,

While rich boasting,

Life status separated us,

That’s why you were made to believe that you’re black and others white,

You’re bright,

And others dull,

A secret circle full of total confusion,

where we work on defusion,

Just to prevent delusion,

And bournes of colour trades,

Let’s stop bleaching,

And preaching,

That I am a poet,

That I am pastor,

That I am a president,

That I am white

That I am black

Because

I am not a bayard,

But a bard,

Just a nerd,

I write to ward,

I protect myself,

Yourself;

And themselves

Through writing,

I please,

I can be any character,

I can be a beggar,

I can be rich,

I can be a witch,

I can be a poet,

Who writes a sonnet,

And If I open my sockets,

You can read imprints on my pockets,

That I don’t believe in difference,

You’re gay,

You’re a lesbian,

You’re rich,

And you poor,

You’re white

And you black

Because the circle made you believe of the difference.

 

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