Poppa Yao

Breezes are bold blistering and strong,
Sweet sunny days are so short,
Cold lonely nights are too long.

Valentines feel all weird and wrong,
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They sing, hum, celebrate.
They rape, maim, castrate.
We cry, pray, retaliate.
We curse, burn, obliterate.
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Even busy ambulance drivers do,
Need to stop for a snack or two,
He looked at the judge,
He licked at the smudge,
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When they damned us to lives of bile, blood and bone,
When genocides consumed the living and dead pitied unborn,
We still hailed them on.
T'is all we have ever known.
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In my dreams,
Lays a land full of peace.
By its streams,
I feel the grip of stress release.
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They do not grow among chickens,
Don't contain cocks or chick hens,
why the name?
Who's to blame?
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I boast of my beasts hunt
Their blood red eyes crimson the moons light,
Their mad cries quake even the stars of night,
Their intents dark enough to eclipse sunlight.
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Born and bred on ghetto soils,
Breastfed on her spoils.
I recoil at the recall of tiring toils.
Burdened, blistered and full of boils,
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