Red

Fri, 01/09/2015 - 12:59 -- exhil

Location

Once I saw a flutt’ring bird.

Care it not the ‘comp’ning murk

Right behind but rest assured,

Have but I professed a cure.

 

Here me now, this verse I spit,

Rap’s not art, it’s curse of wit.

Fly, I shall, for dust is bit.

Held by past? Ridiculous.



Me? Not I, progression’s key.

We unlock immortally.

Future holds pure jubilee,

Past is mere stupidity.



Why now look to conservate?

All tradition is a lie.

Still arcane restrictions hate

One small step for all mankind.



Urban culture is recalled,

Hip-hop tossed for classical,

Artists vandalize the walls,

Fags and poor called radical.



Left is wrong and right is right.

Fear all change, keep shorted sight.

Wait for God’s O holy light,

Judgement comes, so face his might.



Fundamentalism fails,

Only progress will prevail.
Careless bird with wind at tail,

Flies away to tell its tale.



All is higher praised in blue.

Sky’s superior to dread.

Dreams I wish and know are true.

All is better dead than red.

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741