By Malcolm Little Black Piqued by the turn of events he drank a cup of vitriol And joined his ancestors His life was a woody perennial plant, With its share of roses And kindred of thorns “And death, the key To the gate of freedom” He thought… But alas, Life holds the padlock Beloved; Abortion is not always a sin Especially when spurred by the counsel of impulse And it’s safer to take the pill When the mind is pregnant with thoughts of suicide And wear not the cassock of remorse When performing the righteous act For better is the smell of manslaughter Than the stench and stigma of self-murder And no one can save him from the claws of darkness, The man that extinguished his own light. |
