Blessed is the tree, which is barely sensitive,and the hard stone because it no longer feels,for there is no pain greater than the pain of being alive
I feel you here in flesh. With melancholy eyes like the night.From a mouth yelling “kiss me” and a heart that ignites with madness in my presence.
Are you afraid of the Tomorrow?Well, do not stick to anything,Do not question books or your neighbor.
I am from a place where love is shared nationwide and the colors are very brightI am from a from a place with trees where birds sound thankful
Let us march for peace and nonviolence, Asking for the end of the wars this day; We all urgently have taken conscience, For we have the right to live in harmony!
Here comes a new day againAll of my friends are with meFor all that I have,I thank you life…
She washes her handsTo clear the spreading germs of ImperialismThe African hands that ploughed the soul of the colonizer
My happiness is immeasurableMy emotions are running highGiving me another reason to see the beauty
The dawn is broken byPrayers from mosques that ring through empty skies.When lonely infidels, sprout.With red tumors, trumped only by blue bruisesFrom having spilled a grain of rice,
Here I am. I am living and dying.I have a cloud over me as I walk through the halls of this school.I am too numb to even plan ahead. Ahead I go.
To climb out of a mother’s wombAnd plant the bitter kiss of betrayalTo furtively compose a song for DadAnd cry echoes into a torn drum’s shell
Pine needles dance with the windTo taunt me, Bushes crowned with lilacs breathe sweetnessTo seduce me,
Does not have to be physical is not only words,is it critical, affecting youths around the world.
People keep asking and askingBut they never knowThat I don’t know,They keep guessing and there they go.
A traveler looks for a homeBorn with a name he could not choose,Forever an outcast in his own land,Seeks comfort in the unknown.
How do I fight injustice when I’m chainedwith both visible and invisible chains?How do I break the chains that enslavedmy mothers and fathers from Africa,
TELL ME, Do I bother you because I don’t see the world form the same eye - or because I wasn’t born under ‘your’ sky? Do I bother you because of the place or race that I come from - or people that I share roots with and whom I call home?
Lurking through the confined wall of my room, There is not a single wind of hope, Like a decaying tree,Like a decaying tree,Only with a window as a console,
"You know, I've never asked youwhere you're from."Without a second thought,I say,"I am from Brooklyn."A pause—
I will always remember that cold night of Novemberwhen I realized that stereotypes are everywhere,some even dressed up as fear,
What do you want from us?an image of pretensiondocile, obedient, pureis that what you want from us?
Yeah, I'm PolishAnd i'm Proud But there is ALWAYS that one person in a certain crowdWho would say something about me really LOUD
Between the mountains of the Andes,The Latin American IndianOutcome all of the tallest cloudsWith the bright color of the mestizoBetween the sun rays.
These mouth are so redthey are capable of fightingthey are capable of hidingThese mouth are hilariousthey can be dangerous
My wrist can either be on or off
Maybe it’s because I broke it before
Or maybe it’s because I’m becoming older
These eyes that try to look all around
which cannot see more than the superficial
parts of the people
My neck is taller than most
It connects my head to my body
and it values as much as a Bugatti.
They are big and beautiful,their color is blackas the dark night.They can see from long distance,a peculiar characteristic
My hands are long and big
They do a lot for me
They help me eat
Eyes are essentialThey let you define thingsAs they define youThe ethereal beauty of life
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