They say, your blood is diluted,
Adulterated with a murky liquid,
What runs through your veins
And what runs through ours
can never be mixed
Soon enough it will turn into water,
and we wouldn’t be sure
you ever existed.
Maybe the bats will sniff around,
Killing two birds with the same stone,
Oh how that’ll straighten the land,
More chambers for our offsprings to own,
We won’t blink an eye when we see them eliminating
a contaminated form
The blood bank feeds the top of the pyramid,
and you’re just unwelcomed in the
enrichment zone.
You see, their pride has taught them
That bloods have different flavors,
When they run out of the fine wine,
That’s when their front begins to waver,
Some lives are on sale in a thrift store,
Firing at the knockoffs,
they see it as a favor.
I know that people use superlatives quite often on here, but I’m blown away by this. It’s truly impeccable writing on your part, my friend. Had to read it twice because of how powerful your comparisons were. Truly amazed here, Mona.
Thanks, Cyrus! I appreciate your comment 🙂
I missed you and your writing so much! So glad to see you again. This poem was brilliant, but you already know that 🙂
The same goes for you, friend! Thank you 🙂 🙂