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.