The Blunted Eyes of Our Youth

Written by: Eze Obiora

The blunted eyes of our youth search for a guide,

And after four hundred years it seems like some are still stepping off the planks

Lines of salt etched down cheeks from tears they failed to hide,

They weep openly in the streets flocked together like pigeons, waiting for bread on river
banks.

An aching pain seeps down the body, and they say there is a tingling in the toes

Even so, I could tell it was their soles that hurt.

And though the backs that were cracked upon froze

In a dark and indigent future, I swore I saw my identities worth.

I observed the full bellied crosses pregnant with lost souls

And above those crucifixes were carved their identities, in forms and figures

They went from niggers colored’s to Negros

Afros and Afro Americans and right back to niggers.

I wept for I knew I could not sell them mine, I sank to my knees.

We continue to struggle and the taste in our mouths remains bitter