Black words
bleed onto a
White page,
stained with the blood of history.
Red,
Yellow,
Brown.
The blood of our fathers;
The blood of the oppressed.
It marks every chapter,
mixing with the ink,
painting pictures;
the kind you don’t see
in museums or
in magazines.
There’s no glossy shine here,
no polished finish,
just color photography
in all its bleakness.