Grey Matter: a poem By John McKinley Pride Jr
This evil crosses your mind and twists your spine.
Creates a demon in you;
Creates a hate in you;
Creates a part of you.
A part of you lost;
A part of you gained;
A part of you that you no longer can ignore.
No longer able to close your eyes to it.
This evil crosses you.
Crosses you out;
Points you out;
Breaths you in and exhales you out.
This evil crosses your mind more than one time past the grey matter.
Building up neurons of criminal hypocrisy.
Unwinds, unwounds, uncoils from around your brain.
Sinks deep within you; sinks past your gyrus, and into your sulcus; to react or not react has become your final deepest thought.
This evil crosses your mind but you pass on it one more time.
By John McKinley Pride Jr