Native Tongues


United States
39° 37' 54.336" N, 75° 35' 51.108" W

I once had a spirit,
That would cry, Livid.
A soundless screamer,
A sleepless dreamer.
A cowardly warrior,
A body-less barrier.
A sharp taste of rum,
A native tongue.
When the soul spoke,
It took what it broke,
What it hated, what it provoked.
All the soul ever wanted,
Was a little bit of hope.
Procrastinating future for past would never come,
Holding back words from a native tongue.

Guide that inspired this poem: 


MVP-Most Valuable Poet

powerful msg

native tongues is what we learn and inherit

embrace with pride

nice poem

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