What the Fallen Seed Knows | Bill Nwonwu | Poetry
The ground does not apologize for its hardness. The seed does not ask permission to split open. I have been buried before — in silence, in refusal, in the mouths of those who mispronounced my name and called it correction. Still I rose. Not because the soil was kind but because rising was the […]
Black News 
The ground does not apologize for its hardness. The seed does not ask permission to split open. I have been buried before — in silence, in refusal, in the mouths of those who mispronounced my name and called it correction. Still I rose. Not because the soil was kind but because rising was the […]
