GETTING MY EPOCH POETRY TO WORK

Black is the color of my small brother’s brain, the grey streaks in my mom’s hair. Black is the colour of my yellow cousin’s smile, the scards upon my neighbor’s wrinkled encounter…is a method of claiming the reality that hurts by using a snicker, a way of capping on (shutting up) a person. Getting even speaking bout individuals’s mamma

Black is the colour of my tiny brother’s thoughts, the gray streaks in my mother’s hair. Black is the color of my yellow cousin’s smile, the scards on my neighbor’s wrinkled facial area…As you are able to see, each individual line sales opportunities up to the cap, the ultimate a single. And the final assertion relies on the reality that