My Spiritual
My pale skin Carries with it The sins of my fathers, I am stained By the tortured blood Of the people with a ‘soul.’ The new regime Has me ashamed To utter pride That I hail From the Angel Isle That conquered the world. Woe to my children Having not been born With a face of slaves, But will carry the burden Of sailing the seas And being a conquerer.
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I am a button pusher. I stir up trouble. It is what I do. I live in the borders between light and dark. I can write about beautiful things, and joy and love, but I find I am more creative when i write about the dark. I love to hold a mirror up to the...
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