saul williams.

Every morning
I rise and face
the firing squad.

Every morning
there is one
who holds
his fire.

His dilemma
is my system
of belief.

They fire rounds
but I am seldom
in their circle.

A quiet mind
is labeled ‘sound’
and colored purple.

My little boy
has not yet learned
to color within lines.

His jumbled diction
has not yet learned
our contradiction.

We speak of art
with flaming passion
and then do work
void of compassion
and wonder why
is bleeding fiction.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s