I, Rosa Johnson, pledged to abide by all the rules, and to purchase a book-the one that wins-from Amazon.com. I will partake in all the above rules. Rosa Johnson.


Chiseled

By Rosa Johnson


I hear the sound of a new day approaching. My body awakes, it betrays me again. I wake up. I step to the back door, not mine someone else’s back door, an as the door is open wide, I hear the sounds of morning. The birds’ chirps, singing their national anthem with harmony. They sing their faith songs of thankfulness, but I have no song. My song wasn’t taken from me. I had no control of it. They did. I just exist. I light up, smoke, exhale, and listen to their symphony. No instrument, no choreographer, just unity. America it should observe these creatures and learn. Like the psalmist state, observe the ant. I did, and they too, wake up ready to work, ready to build, not taking little pieces of the innocent, but working, forging community. Not in my world. It isn’t like the ants or the birds; everyone is for themselves, looking to get ahead even if it takes homicide to do it. To accomplish what they sought for, even if it is to rape, kill, manipulate, abuse, or lie. Its selfish and unfair, this world.
I walk close the door to the singing. It’s annoying.

Signed: Rosa Johnson

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 11.10.2011

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