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Victim Rapeby Patricia Elaine Mason, CCWFFlowers die, the wind blows the petals I die and the seasons remain placid I think about a slave ship and I must be the only passenger Invisible chains Waves of anguish hit, my body crumbling by battery and cancer Dust on a forgotten slate of statistics Tears, snowflakes in dark morbid concrete. Man made mansions of pain. Prison variations of pleasure the ill wind on the masts of my life. I do not want to die in a sea of strangers I'm supposed to be free Malcolm X, Mandela, Huey P. Newton I'm too poor to even fight for causes The battle of skid row and the war of confinement Dust on life's structure and no one even knows me. Statistics? America? I'm the victim, the ugly blotch on society I watch as the seasons change The wind blows, age and time The songs that replay as I sit Hostage to the virgin society and the penitentiary. Last updated August 19, 2003 12:47 PM |
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