You send a wrecking ball right through my RedZone
Despite all the preparations my heart nonetheless crush into three unspecified pieces
I intend to use a shovel to merge the pieces together
I expect the sun to burn my fingertips crisp
Crunchy crispy is what the ground beneath me feels like
Your bedsheets are too white for my black greasy skin to lie on
You seek the truth and I refuse to lie
Through it all I will adorn my scorned face with a smile.
There is so much I can not contain
RedART will rise again
With my emotions RedART will maintain
Sustain
Keep me sane
Keep me on my lane
Eat pain like a feast as if I were Jocker or Bane
Blame. Game of blames. Lame. Pain
Pain.
Experience reminds me that this is exactly the best way to get rid of all this pain.
-RedART by Kelvin Mark. Mwangi
redART poetry 