Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, politics, Writing

Kneeling In The Garden

Deep under dirt,

I grow,

audacious,

ferocious,

fed by rain,

you sought to deny me,

formally segregated sprinkles.

gettyimages-603553684.jpg

I will grow,

and glow,

under my moonlight,

and bloom,

in the morning,

to kneel,

with all the other flowers,

you denied the right to exist,

in your garden.


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