Rights
Out of the ghetto
Never worn the stiletto
Clothes that are tattered
Shoes that are battered
Voice that is squeaky
But always a little cheeky
The words are blurred
And never been heard
For the sake of his skin
No one knows where he's been
But he will never give up his voice
For the right of his choice
👁 2💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.