The Blame

Intricate thoughts have become too plain

Instrument plot, can you see what I'm playin?

Dissonant cough, it's just the same old same

Immanent lots that we need to reclaim

Taking these naught like an undue pain

Immigrants watch as they see our reign

Innocence lost like they did our names

Imminent cross, they wanna see these flames

Burning up a sweat when we take our aims

When you see the silhouette, they become fair game

Fill em with regret for their disdain 

Insolence taught hides them from their shame

Discolored distraught, so they can distance the maim

Infinite swot, so they can see where we came

Symbolist opp to those that we declaim

Vigilant sought, they're tryna see who to frame

Incriminate the cops if they can't be tamed

We're tired of being shot and taking the blame

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
My country
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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