Looking into
the distance
her eyes
contain
the vision
of herself
On stage
in front of
thousands
But now
the working through
the struggles
and failures
the pain
and the waxing
desire to quit
and leave it all
behind
Until tomorrow
when the
echoes of
thundering applause
and the phantom scent
of
bundles of flowers
And the
smiles and tears
the fruit of her
labor of love
will generate
will one day
no longer
be only
echoes
and phantoms
So, my people,
Let us strive
Together
toward the reality
of our dreams
Lifting not only
our voices
but our
Souls
Anther great piece.
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Thank you, sir. ‘Tis the last for Black History Month (at least until I’m inspired again).
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You did the month proud, my friend.
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