Through Generations by J.K.

we were scavengers

feeling the land beneath our feet as an extension

the reverberation of hyenas howls and lions roars soothed our ears

we were free

chains, ropes, and boats

we were taken from our land like a newborn from the womb


sold like livestock

some were slaughtered and others grazed

cotton fields needed pickin

ivory skinned needed to be fed

our rewards were nothing more than cornbread and water

the land was foreign

sounds of whips and screams clawed at our ears

eyes clenched there was peace

eyes open there were nooses and white hooded gowns

dark, dangerous, beastly

these are thoughts that arise at a spectacle like us

the perceived jibber jabber we speak isn’t respected

we are seen as wicked, stained, foul

but we have no knowledge of what they speak of

because we are warriors

leaders and healers

we are human

when I heard those words

I was only 13

in hicksville USA

trucks and cowboy boots filled my vision

I was the period on a blank page

soiled a good thing

exchanging jokes with the ones I called friends

darker punk’d the lighter

“you’re a nigger”

something happened

as worlds collided i was left alone

in a dark corner with no help in sight

but like my people

I will fight on

like the warriors, leaders and healers that came before me

like the panthers who wouldn’t let the man take them down

like Martin who wouldn’t let the piercing accusations shake him from his dream

so while in that moment when everything was aray

I closed my eyes like the ones before me did

and was transported to where I feel peace

I am proud

I am african


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