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african american poetry

eu amo minha vida, mas não demasiado bem
as estrelas caíram do heaven
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
e enquanto nós andamos a grama foi agitada fraca
diga-me não
para estes braços brancos sobre minha garganta
embora repine do amor, e chafe da razão
minha alma vai clad em coisas gorgeous
você é bonito e desvanecido
os dias melancólicos vieram
em seus regimentals ásperos

 



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