Kite.

Sometimes I wonder
How could I make a kite fly
Even when weighed down by a boulder
How could I make these diseased things happy
They want money and my everlasting plea to be their servant
I must be their maid, wife, confidant
No longer will I be
Patronized by a country with horrid beliefs
So shackle me down, strip me of my clothes and break my crown
Tell the whole town, how I failed to be like everyone else
Maybe if I wonder
My kite will be over the hills
Way down yonder

This poem is about: 
Our world

Comments

MVP-Most Valuable Poet

well said

you make that kite fly when you're imprison of the oppression

watch how your kite is set free

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