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Ghettos In The City

Ghettos In The City.

Silent breezes of rushing winds of flames,
They were not named; they need spoil those with names.
...
The hood stormed into the dirty estate —
For long are they kept in the burnt palace.
Foul fighting as one that beateth the air
The trees are dancing, the waves are beating.
Tidal raves in the hole of a Black's hill —
Oh, what do to butter-flying and perching?
Foul air of broken Writes, hence, Gutter Kings
sail their wheels to merchants- over the bar.
The howling shiver and silver river
of holy sinners and guilty babies;
For, fighting as one that beateth the air
is as Goliath wrestl'ng shadow of self
and as rotten summer basketed fruits.

Softest blood flows in their silken thin veins,
They were fair; not liked, so they need share pains.

Ghettos In The City.

Akinwale Peace Akindayo
Philip Peace

Image: Shutter Stock

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