POETIC SKETCHES

CAGED RAGE

Living in a cage
A world framed by my rage
The bars bangs and clangs
Resonating to the  anvil of my bloody hands.

As words of social thugs
Binds and blinds
With legal hugs,
The masses just  shrugs.

From this atmosphere
From this sphere
Of barren fields with bountiful crops of strife.
I stand tall and let loose my voice
For I have a CHOICE.
I have a VOICE.
Succumb or BECOME.
FIGHT or flight.
Transform what is wrong to RIGHT.

As I bang the bars and flesh with all my might,
A Warrior be
Is what has become of me.
A father, a son
A daughter, a wife
This is now our life.
What I have become is far from done.

For now they have got me on the run
Pride glistens in Ebony and red as rapidly I stride.
Sweat beads on my head, as I will run but never to hide.

The WAR within and without churns the miles.

At times wide is my smile.
The smirk on my face is for my malicious intend
If my pursuers will not relent.

With long strides I discard my cloaks of bondage
And my shoes of suffrage .
I re-aligned my mind
To new found knowledge to which I was blind.
My ignorance was no longer bliss.

Moonlight silhouette me in the distant ridge
As I found a route to the bridge
With rivers and valleys below.
The fight to make RIGHT
Welcomes the night.

If my pursuers insist,
To the last I will RESIST.
The Devil wears many faces
And now the one worn is mine.