A Dying Race

Poem By James Royster

My black queen look what you have become.
At one time you sought after love. Now you just have sex for fun.

A man with dignity and intelligence is no longer good.
Now you desire a thug who lives in the hood.

You are truly God's Masterpiece, but you don't act that way.
Instead you prefer to shake your ass in the club every night and day.

To you love has become a game.
The winner is the person with the most wealth and fame.

Oh how I wish you would return to your splendor and grace.
Because right now your kind is a Dying Race.

Comments about A Dying Race

Nice one your poem's rhythm is totally on beat and your message is heard loud and clear! Bravo!

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I see intelligence, knowledge and wisdom beyond his age.
Society sees anger, hatred, and eyes filled with rage.

I see someone who is full of success.

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I tried to write about you, but the words
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I tried to sing about you, but the notes


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How can I smile when 2/3 of me have been
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No reason to live, no reason to die.

I have no reason to laugh, no reason to pout

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I've seen a flower whose petals refuse to fall.
I've seen a woman who looks like a beautiful queen doll.

I've seen the majestic eagle soar across the sky.