The anger in me cannot write poems It sits and watches as my words struggle to break free it spits in the face of those who claim there is only one race While the sun is stained with innocent blood.
It sits and watches as the words shatter into countless stanzas trying to find their place on my tongue, but I cannot form them into coherent thoughts, the anger sits in the corner of my heart, waiting for calm.
The earth is burdened with the blood of the innocent as summer days are tainted with the souls of those who die Every day, the world is painted with the crimson of tragedy and the anger in me cannot find the words to ease the pain.
Copyright © Beatriz Esmer
Beatriz Esmer 
Hi Beatriz, are all these drawings that accompany your writings done by you? If so, they are quite beautiful.
Thank you! The most of them are mine! 🙏🏾
You are most welcome. You are very, very talented with both words and images.
Hope you are having a great day. 🙏
Thank you! I hope you too !
I understand my special Bia . It must change . It is in and of itself and should be a criminal prosecutable crime