Monday, March 11, 2019

Untitled by Rohan Shyne Dave

I don't know if you remember the days we built homes in the sand, and read poems that might land into the laps of our youth - come-unity and truth, 
Now, our bodies are bruised, but we grew ten feet high, digging our fingernails into dirt and sky, 
And now we're grown, found home in rivers, flow like veins.
But yall know we throw down like rain
Tryna defend the sacred,
Suspend the hatred,
Protect our stories and pray we make it,
They've been taking too many liberties, in place of our synergy,
My voice is a bullet and my heart is my weaponry-
Like a phoenix, we dip feathers into flames, and reclaim the ways we've
Spoken
Coz we cannot be stolen,
We are our own
ancestors.


--Rohan Shyne Dave 

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