EXAMINE THIS REPORT ON EPOCH POETRY

Black is the color of my small brother’s thoughts, the gray streaks in my mother’s hair. Black is the colour of my yellow cousin’s smile, the scards on my neighbor’s wrinkled confront…is a method of claiming the reality that hurts using a laugh, a method of capping on (shutting up) an individual. Finding even talking bout folks’s mammas

The poetical metres of every age differ according to the requirements of the interval. Initially we discover the small metre of the Odes nicely adapted into the desires of a simpler civilisation. Little by little, as Modern society will become much more elaborate, the verse requires mature until finally ultimately the five and seven-character line