Blood do Bleed

Blood do Bleed

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Jul 3, 2019
Should I start with a sorry Or express how much I do worry I will let my pen bleed ink that's what i do best, bleed about the people who currently their blood do bleed. I will also ask you to go unto your knees and plead Ask God to interseed. But how do i start, Like should i talk about how people are dieng and their leaders are growing fat Wait Am not supposed to put blame on anyone Like you! Don't tell me you haven't heard about a six year old girl who was raped by more than five men Or you haven't heard that people who are dead are more than hundreds not even.....ten Am sorry, sorry won't help when the people dead can fill more than ten trucks of lorry Don't tell me not to worry When things are brutal in Sudan It's not about Syria anymore it's about my fellow African And if a white flag isn't shown clearly then it's crucial we show what it means being black Upto to when will we stand things getting dark It's time for African leaders to speak Disagreement and fighting also need a break Instead of Africa breaking into pieces We need more spices So someone serve as with justice And Maybe we will surely Rest in Peace Please Someone stop this Soldiers are meant to be worriers Worriers are not supposed to make to take the innocent breath and make others worry Worriers are supposed to put the country on shape They aren't supposed to rape So please someone tell me how i should eat When People, women and children are beaten upto to their last breath How do i get an appetite While a neighborhood is full of death How do i write a love poem while humanity are inhuman and they can't talk about what is happening in Sudan *Squishy poet*
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Rich Kids

Yes, it is sad... I am not prone to drama like the rest of you. Our lives are encompassed with monotonous events, the usual really: eat, sleep, work, repeat. But honestly, am I complaining? I can, I could have... But the question remains, do I even have the energy to spark up a fire? We could be flowers, adorning ourselves to appear more attractive for the bees' ocellus. Or glow brighter than the sun to entice. But why go through all that hustle when we can just live through the eyes of another? Seems simpler enough anyway. Suck the adrenaline rush of the stunners. The ones that even with just a sneeze, the entire earth would shake, sprinting towards them. Their being, the forbidden tree, strutting at the centre of the Garden of Eden. Their souls, Magnetite. We could attempt. But I do not want to. I try as much as possible to stay away from the disease. As thrilling as it may be: he who will swallow the apple seed must consider the size of his stomach. So why spend a thousand back-breaking years thereafter mopping up the residue? Have the moles drag down your name into the pits with them. Surely, we are not that desperate, are we? Never eye the wife of thy neighbour in fear that she just might be a white fowl with beautiful feathers. So why can I not just stay in my lane? Why can't we? So join in, enter my mind and live out your most exciting reality through the eyes of others. Read it, watch it, envision it. Better than allowing life to feed us up with a spoon of chaos, attracting a series of tornadoes into our mundane worlds. And maybe, we might just fall in love.

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