Fists, Bullets and Blood

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Fists Bullets and Blood, a poem of uplift to my brothers by Greg Powell

Brother, I know rage like lava In dormant volcano pressed down By four centuries of stone stresses To explosions only we can feel, and Women we love and children we seed And community we embody, scarred by misdirected fists and bullets and blood. I say to you dying is a waste of life Rage inchoate is a waste of love […]