History --- and I Cry
O to be young, young gifted and black,
But, what of those that were not good in the sack?
Their usefulness was constantly under attack.
Some went to the fields, into the fields never came back.
Gut wrenching sounds from the mothers as they cry.
Mingled with the wails of babies sucking on breast dry.
Beautiful ebony skin, tarnished, the naked sun fry.
This was not God’s intent, so brother, why, why, why!
Copyright © Joy Wellington | Year Posted 2013
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment