Ghetto Rebellion

February 1, 2011
Forsaken that love may be gentle
and kind.
Thy loves been mistaking, reflecting
world's time.
For I travel dark seas, and my hours
are skewed.
Destiny infects my soul with liberty,
with you.
Division of my eyesight, for blue and blond
wreaks rarely.
Through the streets of stole nights, wilted roses,
fish heads, and barley.
For you, how soft, have slept in baths
of poverty, just quite.
But, I, abandoned of home and love
and European frights,
Want love with you, mi amore, though Italian
heart with my kind are naked.
I see, but blindly, will find a way
to cross Liberty's bay:
a merely ghetto rebellion.

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