My pearly white skin bears no colorful stain
Not one drop of dye will drown my membrane with pain
The ink in my verse colors my sheath in metaphors
Each time I read out at open mic poetry nights
My body of art adorns a canvas of sound
And on pages from trees that gave up their lives
Saving my bark from branding with a permanent mark
My personal choice means after death I'll still have a voice
As my rainbow of rhyme survives chiseled in time

05/11/2016

Posted on 05/11/2016
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