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What Am I Here For?

Maybe we- No maybe I was only made for this. This struggle. This bloody evil struggle. I wasn’t made to be my own art. I am not I because concepts are not people. I am only a pallid survivor. Fodder for Missus and Masta. Broken down. Ready to be repurposed. Used. Regurgitated. And damn if this pain ain’t nothing til it is touched. By the erudite fingers of Whiteness. I am not made for this. I am only a concept. Shit- I ain’t even this poem.
Posted 02/09/16
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