My Soul is Tired by Mr. Stevre Losse

Reflections Magazine: 2009 Poetry Contest First Place Winner, Stevre Losse

with Professor Lois Smith (left) and Sabrina Walters (right)

I’ve been there, I’ve been here

my soul is tired like the old man on the hospital bed gasping for that last breath of air.

I’ve seen friends die

brothers lie

mothers beaten and abused all because of a fathers' pride.

My soul is tired too weak.

It has been beaten to its weary feet.

It’s funny how she fought for us to sit in the front seat, but

we still choose to sit in the back seat.

We have been brainwashed but not of choice but because we made life such a disgusting choice.

Babies killing babies, brothers killing brothers, fathers raping daughters.

Is this what god intended life to be?

Stink an ugly like a fungus growing out of an athlete feet.

My soul is tired too weak.

It has been beaten down to its defeat.

It’s the holiday season and the hurricane Katrina victims still don’t have a place to sleep or eat.

Man is it me or government trying to keep us weak the land of the free the home of the brave.

What we should call it is the land of the deprived and the home built by slaves.

The rich get fame and he poor get shame. Shoot!

I’m thinking about sending Obama a copy of this to ask where the change is

because this world still looks the same.

But I tell you what is a shame how we still have not overcome.

Instead we put the blame on each others' name, so I say again my soul is tired too weak.

It has been beaten down to its weary feet it has been beaten down to its defeat. Can’t you see my brothers and sisters my soul bleeds

like maple seeping out of a maple tree?

Dame when will we be free.