Communication is a pillar 

In the foundation 

of all of humanity’s relationships

And our house 

crashed down before it could

 even be a home

I wish

 We were still an us

I wish 

we were still a them

I wish

 we were still a we

For someone  

                                      who loves talking. 

                                                           You’re awfully quiet now.

                                            It is said that silence

                                            is the most perfect expression of  

                                                                    scorn

you

                                                                                    The apple

                                      of my eye

                                                           you

                               The pit

                                     in my stomach

                        You whom said not a word

                                                                                                     and held your tongue

             Something 

    snakes 

                     even refuse to do

So it is in 

you             holding your tongue

That my questions 

are finally answered

The post Answer appeared first on Baltimore Beat.

I am a chameleon 

Didn’t you know 

Switch my color when I got something to say

Eyes large to observe the secrets 

you do not wish to convey 

I change my hue to adapt and survive

Because I know I must conform

Like a worker bee to a queen in a hive

Can’t you hear the swarm?? 

Skin white for compliance, prim vernacular 

Disgust for every shade of black

I look like the people who take credit for a country built off 

my 

ancestors back

If you are not a chameleon you simply will not understand 

Skin blue emotion too raw

 I

 do

 not

 need a bandage

This tint is rare because we all know they like to take advantage

Skin red for flaming rage 

like my predecessors before me

Like the feeling of blazing sand on toes connected to our body-filled sea

hot to the touch

Fifth degree burns

Bubbling blisters

Do not tell me the heat is 

too 

much.

Extract entirely every drop of pigmentation 

To paint the feelings they lack with imagination

I must be lyin’ 

Don’t listen this poem’s a dud 

But

If I’m not allowed to cry over spilled milk 

Can I cry over spilled blood?

If you are not a chameleon you simply will not understand 

If you 

are not 

A

Chameleon

 you simply will 

not understand

The post Code Switch appeared first on Baltimore Beat.

Give me your hand 

You said as we ran through the Forest

Laughter and nature composing a sweet melody

   To fill my heart content

Days spent 

Cracked dust remains of tears

Where we lay where we’re sat

Forever smiling like

Alice and her beloved Cheshire Cat 

Being with you had always been my 

Desire

Desire, desire what an interesting word 

Noun

 meaning a strong feeling of wanting to have something or wishing for something to happen. 

amusing to be honest 

“Wishing”

Everyone knows wishes only come true in fairy tales 

Wishing is a pipe dream 

Hoax smoke meant to fill your lungs

Intoxicate a life once serene 

My wish was for us to be together and live happily 

I didn’t realize 

I was high

Unfortunately I do not live in a fairytale 

Nor am I a well

Similar yes 

How I’ll tell

Both filled with liquid 

Only a well’s water 

And mine a crimson pool of tears

Both used to people taking and taking 

I have no peace 

In short time

I will wither I will cease 

My dear lover 

By my side will you please stand

I ask you one last question 

Please 

Give me

 your 

hand.

Baltimore Beat is running poems from participants in the group Writers in Baltimore Schools, which offers programming that builds skills in literacy and communication while creating a community of support for young writers.

The post Dear Lover appeared first on Baltimore Beat.