The heartbeat of the world
Is colorful in its majesty
Rooted firmly in its fertile soil
Your branches made to defy gravity
Your fro'ed leaves sway,
In the fresh breeze it welcomes
Your pigment so deep that
Some believe time began with you.
​
...
Your future’s cut short
Your roots, cut down
Your promise land turned red
Stolen to be used.
From solid to a lifeless stream
You are physically broken down
All your dignity taken away
Bleached white. White washed.
Centuries of broken down culture
No longer with an identity
Your new form now acceptable
Because you have no voice
The words on your new back,
Tell of a different story
A tale of cities set on a hill,
Where masters sold you for glory
Once with curves and shades,
Your edges are now made straight.
Vertical and horizontal lines box your image
Forced to conform to this new life
They now praise your new form
Displaying it for the world, Unashamed
Working tirelessly to be the name
That finally made you good
Though, your brother’s reality
Turns out far worse
Your future different,
But still bleak
Made to be discarded.
Use. Reuse. Abuse.
Again.
The cycle goes
Promises of a new change
Lies told by many
All for power,
Money and fame
The heartbeat of the world
Colorful in its majesty
Now reduced to
The shadows of a blank sheet.