Mississippi Burning

The light shines at the end of the road,

like heaven awaiting,

but little did they know,

the bright lights,

were just for show.

And like hounds they tracked us down,

our faces turned into deep frowns,

then the man approached us,

and spat out his words,

'til he had had enough.

Within seconds,

we were face to face,

with the bright light called heaven,

and it was there my soul cried,

"I swear to the lord, I still can't see,

why democracy means everybody...

but me."

By мαяια:;♥
*Quote took from Langston Hughes.*

If flowers could talk...

If flowers could talk,

they would whisper to each other whenever the wind blew,

like a long chain of chinese whispers,

talking about the weather and dew.

They would compliment each other on their

perfume fragranced petals,

and giggle when a bumble bee sucked out its nectar.

Their stalks and leaves,

which grew on them like clothes,

were talked about,

like they were part of a fashion show.

And the poor, unwanted, ugly garden weeds,

were the mockery and gossip that they would need.

By мαяια:;♥