THE 5-SECOND TRICK FOR EPOCH POETRY

Black is the color of my minor brother’s intellect, the grey streaks in my mom’s hair. Black is the colour of my yellow cousin’s smile, the scards on my neighbor’s wrinkled confront…As you are able to see, every line potential customers up on the cap, the ultimate a single. And the final statement is based over a reality that every one Bl

In our ever more disposable society, poetry waves the flag of permanence. It musters memory against the onslaughts of ephemera.if tomorrow’s black poetry won't Clarify what is but Whether it is then pens might be electric with emotion igniting and the paper shall grow to be the poet and the poets shall be earth-clouds… –Ronda DavisThe creator