THE 5-SECOND TRICK FOR EPOCH POETRY

Black is the color of my minor brother’s intellect, the gray streaks in my mother’s hair. Black is the colour of my yellow cousin’s smile, the scards upon my neighbor’s wrinkled deal with…if tomorrow’s black poetry will never Demonstrate exactly what is but Whether it is then pens will be electric with emotion igniting and the paper sha

Black is the color of my minor brother’s head, the gray streaks in my mother’s hair. Black is the color of my yellow cousin’s smile, the scards upon my neighbor’s wrinkled experience……we go to fulfill the realization of makers realizing who we've been …understanding tips on how to live, and what lifetime is… …we must spin by means