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Poem-A-Week

Oxygen 
by Woodrow Bailey

Only in America of America

Of the times that phase has darken her lips

Oath to be in the Land of the Free

Obedient to the citizens under government control

Obey laws, obey authority, and obey faith

Obligation seems simple enough for Humanity

 

Outrage 

Outreach

Out run

Outside

Outright

Outstanding is our resolve against Jim Crow

 

Obsess in the fact my ancestors were not citizens

Oblivious declaration of the number 3/5

Odds against them from the first day of 1619AD

Oddity was they knew they were not free

Occasions still show there is a future in any America

Occupancy always limited as those 40 acres

 

Outgoing

Outcast

Outclass

Outcome

Outlook

Outlandish to think those in power will concede

 

Observe the systemic racism as water

Obsession overflowing as rivers of pain, death

Obsolete is never a term used by Jim Crow

Offspring continue to birth new oppression

Obscene gestures lowering standards of decency

Overseer flicks his wrist north as anger burns

 

Out of date

Output

Out of time

Outsmart

Outskirts

Outspoken gets you a trigger of aggression

 

Overstate the truth as malicious lies lying

Own is a term my ancestors use as never

Outdated thinking melts as misery hides

Outgrow the systematic ignorance that is harbored

Outlying dreams of equal tomorrows

Out of the way my ancestor’s spirits sing

 

Overgrown

Overkill

Overlap

Overmatch

Overplay

Overrule the senselessness moving forward

 

Original nightmares come from organic dreams

Ordinance of hope blasted away by lies and liars

Orbit far reaching fallacy of Freedom

Orchestra of harmony of cotton fields of spirituals

Orderly conduct cost martyrs their lives

Ordinary disrespect of usual Demons   

 

Overtone

Overwhelm

Overtime

Oversee

Overstep

Oversight as misguided mistakes create mismanagement

 

Oxygen

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Woodrow Bailey was born New Orleans and raised in South Central Los Angeles. His creativity took flight when his mother taught him how to write at age three. His philanthropy, his career, and his writing represent those with no voice or choice in this society.

Woodrow Bailey uses the words as a prose into his environment; he sees those who are left with little to no option as his audience. His writing is their testimony as he observes social issues. As the same streets he grew up on continue to be his composition book, those life lessons fuel what he stands for: Peace and Faith.