#WritcoPoemPrompt49 @AtulPurohit
The days of slate and chalk,
Are not easy to erase,
They hold memories,
Of my childhood,
The hardness of slate,
The grittiness of chalk,
It's hard for little girls to grow strong,
When the air they breathe is toxic,
Engulfed in the smog of racism.
You can taste it.
It's so thick, so heavy.
It sends shivers up your spine,
Terror around every corner.
You grab your little sister by the hand,
And tell her it's time to run,
Because school has let out,
And we have to make it home.
We run...