It looks like the inside of machinery.<\/p>\n
Fuming, working different emotions endlessly.
\nNever stopping, it turns these gears called emotions
\n…but all this machinery is now leaving.<\/p>\n
Being blasted away and burning as it leaves the earth\u2019s atmosphere.
\nThe flame is made of all sorts of colors.
\nYellow for my mellowness,
\nred for my anger,
\nblue for my curiosity,
\norange for my danger.<\/p>\n
All that\u2019s left of my negative emotions lay in rubble.<\/p>\n
Fear, of others watching me
\n\u2026judging me on moves I make.<\/p>\n
Hatred, the blood boiling feeling whenever a thought
\nthat provokes anger crosses my mind.<\/p>\n
Then I see a package, floating down on a parachute.
\nThe box is bursting with all the emotions I never meant to send away.
\nSense of family returned,
\nacceptance and love.
\nThe best was beauty\u2026
\nnatural and glowing of utter flawlessness from inside.
\n~<\/p>\n
Falmata, age 15, partipated in the\u00a02012 Dr. Carver Gayton Youth Curator Program at the Northwest African American Museum. <\/a>\u00a0He and his fellow curators worked with writer Daemond Arrindell <\/a>on poems based on \u00a0the Northwest Gallery exhibition, “Xenobia Bailey: Aesthetics of Funk.”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It looks like the inside of machinery. Fuming, working different emotions endlessly. Never stopping, it turns these gears called emotions …but all this machinery is now leaving. Being blasted away and burning as it leaves the earth\u2019s atmosphere. The flame … Continue reading