Hope
I feel it pounding in my caged chest,
But my heart still pushes me forward.
Hope
I hear the early morning bird, chirping,
That tomorrow would be a brighter day.
Hope
I taste in the words of my mouth.
Wishing to leave something better on this planet Earth.
Hope,
I wear as a golden robe.
For others who are naked and needy.
Hope
I speak it, I write it, I live it.
For myself, and for those who have the courage and are ready.
For tomorrow is pregnant,
And Hope is her baby.© Madinah_Writes
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Fragrance From A Black Flower
Poetry#1 in blackpoets This collection of poems is intended to give some account of the conditions in which African oral poets produce their works, and the audiences to which they address themselves. However, even the most summary account of this topic is...