WHEREAS I do not have to prove
I deserve to exist. Go lay your burdens
at God's feet. Send Him your questions
of blackness and your prayers for whiteness
and your dreams of black annihilation;
Beseech Him—ask why He would create
the Heavens and the Earth; ask why
He made Man in His image. Ask why
He would form Man out of earth—pure,
black earth—and give Man hair of wool.
Ask Him. Ask your Father. Ask your God.
YOU ARE READING
THE TWENTY SECOND YEAR
PoetryAt birth, we are all sentenced to life- to live. Highest Rankings: #4 in poembook #4 in poemcollection © z. t. corley, 2024
