This Is Not My Home Read Count : 47

Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A
Stripped away by suited men, the resources stolen from deep within.

With each march the act never comes to it's end.

They say our forefather's would stand proud but I linger in doubt.

They spoke there words with an
earth-rattling shout.

I heard their call to fight at their side.

These courageous men and women who lived to die.

What words carry my thoughts leaves me to sigh.

But renew that battle spirut, to call to the march.

We fight against the era old systematic injustice left as a farce.

Only a few remembered that day were never to stain.

It is those we do not remember where we must lay the blame.


  • Jun 09, 2020

  • Jun 09, 2020

  • Jun 09, 2020

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