From the bosom were they ripped,
Tears that fall are endless in sight,
No safe haven in this land of free,
Stealing from hearts,
Taking diaspora babies,
Separation as the Exodus flows,
Running from temperatures
Getting too hot,
Out of the fire,
And into the pot
Published by Vanessa
Mother, WRITER, artist, student, dreamer, civil and human rights activist,
humanitarian, minister in process, mystic, sentient being.
I write to remember; I write to discover; I write to understand; in order to be closer/higher/connected.
View all posts by Vanessa