Black
Black is void, empty, starless nights.
Black is a lone serial killer, waiting in your room.
Black smells like death.
Black smells like the abandoned mines full of enslaved worker’s dead bodies.
Black tastes like hatred flowing from a bleached skull.
Black tastes like voodoo cooked in a rusty cauldron.
Black sounds like the footsteps outside your window at night.
Black sounds like fat black rats gnawing the flesh off the face of a corpse.
Black feels like the bony grip of a killer as he grabs your ankles and pulls you away.
Black feels like the tentacles of a monster tugging your feet through a crevice to hell.
Black is the feeling of fear.
This is, in no way, meant to be racist. After reading this a few times, I realized that it does sound pretty racist.
Black is your bike being stolen at 3 A.M only for you to comeback to where you left it and finding a KFC tub full of chicken bones.
And some watermelon
And Kool-Aid
OH YEAH
Black poem?
[img]http://blogs.citypages.com/pscholtes/images/Baraka%20African%20hip%20hop%20rapper%20Minneapolis.jpg[/img]
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[img]http://www.storyfinders.co.uk/directory/uploads/b8c0dbe4-4e35-445f-9d57-898c45754775/Places/poem%20page-1.jpg[/img]
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