When we suppress,
Our urges to create,
We hurt the most important part of our soul;
The child within,
Who once looked at the world,
Like it had found the shiniest gem,
And giggled when snow,
Touched the tip of its nose.
That child is in you,
But weeps every day,
Every day, you forget to feed,
That sweet, soul child.
YOU ARE READING
Black Girl Shine #Wattys2017
PoetryA collection of 10 poems to uplift the melanin soul. *Highest rank: #20 in Short Poems.
