The Poem

A song I did for English last year, about the Harlem Renaissance. Copyrighted to me, Aoharu.

Harlem Renaissance Song
By: Aoharu

V1:
The days are always hot… it’s like hell
Bugs crawling around, crittering
Destroyed crops, no food
On the bottom isn’t so fun
As they would like you to think
The Pinks and The Blues
Are thought to be separated
Can’t mix to make purple…
Although purple is prettier than both 

C: There! Right There! I see! Words mingling against each other. The way to freedom, our salvation. 
Like water, One molecule moves, so do the rest are to follow. 
I heard Cleveland is good. No, New York’s better! Let’s go Chicago. Why not Detroit?
The promise land is filled with green. Working hard, we’ll get some of that.

V2:
The mute has been turned off
But the chitterling is very soft
A shiny object came to me in my dream
Of a pure gold color, music filled the air, a sweet sounding resolve
I found the object, It is mine forever now
Use it to show you all
The music, It has shown me 
How the music inspires people, Oh, especially the Blues
A culture of their own to claim a link back to their heritage
Songs, poems, music, art pieces, novels, All for the world to see…

C: There! Right there! See? Words mingling against each other. The way to freedom, our salvation. Like water, starts with a tickle, then it all pours out. 
Writing, singing, crafting, making, various instruments
The promise land is here, with sweet music. Filling the soul up with joy. Speading around through the air, all the love it would feel

V3:
The stolen words
Can’t be replace
The music is now damaged
Went from Left to Right
The Right is very charming to the Pinks
Something good now dissolved into nonsensical goo
Pinks eat it up like their processed fake food
Forget about the ones who made it
Resounding anger rising 
That’s mine. We did the original. 
So who cares? They don’t. 
They don’t wanna listen... The few who do, to be silenced. 
It goes on for many more centuries
Over again, and again, and again, and again, and again…
Many times, over, again, and again, and again, over and over…
Like a broken record…

The End

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