Race Wars

Rainwashed tears
Invisible yet echo
Though the rain
The wind sings of
Unsung heroes
They forget the dying cries
Of mothers with
Breasts full of hope
Of their lovers
Seeds now blooming.
The rain washes their
Tears yet they still
Mourn for the brothers
Who knifed their lovers
Their sons fathers
Because apparently black
Has shades
And traces the faces
Of the different races.
Racing time does not heal.
Instead it steals moments.


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