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An anti-racism poem about a black cloth.


Submitted:Nov 6, 2006    Reads: 140    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


A blackened cover

lying on top of the table

that nobody notices.

Soot

flies off as the

wind rustles above it.

The blackened cover

begins to whiten

as the rain drops down

from the heavens

Beneath its black layer

there is the same inside

as everything else.





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