On the six strings of musical guitar
A song has been heard, harps have been played
Great minds have discussed, smart ears have listened
Lips with wisdom have spoken , mics have maginified this song
I can change my language but not my skin , I was born black
Black Skin is not a disease not a cloth that I can change
My ancestors were black our soils are black so I am black
My DNA is black only red blood runs in my black Skin
Why hate me when love knows no any boundary
I didn't choose this skin it's a great gift from the Maker
I know my origin you should know yours
If today we were all to go home
On the gates of entrance and in the land of hope
Yes, Garden of Eden is our origin
Why hate me when we have same origin
A wound in my black Skin continues to fester
All antidotes of racism are spent
A black Skin is now a disease on the white lips
My skin is my judge on the table of civilizations
All my ideas are rejected
A mind that can't think it's still in darkness
With black Skin you will know a man am supposed to be
My people cry they have believed a lie of unworthiness
A black man should have filters in his ears
White injections have been made to rob us our identity
Light is still shining
I can change my tune with vocals but not my skin
In the mind of Great Architect I existed as Black
A black ink drew my identity on black land
Let no one cause me trouble.
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Author:
Francis (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 6th, 2023 05:22
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 22
- Users favorite of this poem: Rocky Lagou
Offline)
Comments6
onwards the fight, continues
one Gwendolyn Brooks
one Maya Angelou
one Nikki Giovanni
ONE! Nontsizi Mgqwetho
at a time:
'My people, we’re stabbing Africa,
we kill our own through betrayal:
we court celebrity status,
honours for killing Africa.
When we trade our own people to whites for profit
we inflict a deep wound on Africa.
I’m not one to shy from saying so:
your public behaviour bears eloquent witness.
Oh dear! Dear, oh dear! The shame and disgrace of it!
We wither and perish for lack of a healer
and Africa’s forelegs sink deep in the quagmire:
we repeatedly stab her year in and year out.
Congress and all the successes we strained over,
education and all that we strove to achieve—
as we idly bicker we’re left in the dust
and Africa slips through our fingers forever.'
(from 'We're stabbing Africa'
by Nontsizi Mgqwetho)
Thanks so much dear Poet L. B Mek
THIS POEMMMMMMMM!!!!! sir your peom is so goodddd i can't find the words to describe it. Man black people know the vibes!!!!! everything u said in this poem is something we as black people all relate to so thank you!!!
Thanks so much Cerry
One day Sons and Daughters of Africa will arise to shine
No more betrayal
No more killings
AMENNNNNNNN
I think your poem was magnificent and my husband is black and I am white. Even being in a rural area I can see sometimes people who don't know him treat us differently. One sweet day, the color of our skin won't matter anymore. We are all brothers and sisters. Thanks for sharing!
Wow! Thanks for your reply dear Christina8
God beautify His creation by painting it with different colours which all of them are good whether black or white or yellow
Hi, this is a great piece of writing. You said all the right things in a very kind way, thanks for sharing. 🙂
Thanks so much Eileen for your time
Judge me by my color, judge me by my skin? Don't you know we're all the same. Scattered in the wind.
Fantastic message about being proud of you and your heritage and ethnicity . Liked it a lot .
Sir, Thanks so much
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