Black on Black Arts
Rite of Passage
Walk a mile in my shoes and you'll develop blisters.
As you drop to your knees from the weight of the world
that i had to endure since birth.
Your shoulders will slump from the sacrifies I had to make.
Try to stand with watery eyes the tears will fall.
Headaches and dizzyness overcome you as vertigo sets in.
The world around you starts to spin as you grab hold to keep from falling but nothings there.
You continue your decline.
Everythings in slow motion.
You see the ground inching ever so closely.
You close your eyes as you see the enivitable approaching.
Stalking you like prey.
I grab you pull you up.
Do you still wanna walk in my shoes?
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Comments about this poem (Rite of Passage by Black on Black Arts )
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
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