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Poem

Lend me a listen
And hear this tale of woe
The life and times 
Of a man 'called' Joe

Keep still, keep quiet
Hush, listen to the sound
The silent footsteps of a man
As he walks his native ground

Joe was born long, long ago
Across the waters blue
In a land of plenty
There, Joe the babe grew

Five generations deep
A lifetime of needs supplied
Hard work, respect for self
Full of heritage and pride

Now, Joe's given name was 'Shakka'
A father, a husband, a strong man
One day while hunting
Was snatched from the 'Motherland'

In a ship made of wood
With white sails full mast
Joe and fellow countrymen
Were in the deep below casted

Please, listen a little longer
Can you hear the pain
The fear, the confusion
The frustration of chains

Landing on the auction block
Stripped of humanity and pride
There, Shakka's name was lost
And all his rights deprived

The years were hard, the master cruel
In a strange and foreign land
With obstacles to suppress
Still Shakka (called Joe) remained a man

The whip couldn't break that freedom spirit
Held deep within his soul
Joe vowed that freedom dream
His people someday restore

Listen, can you hear the silence
As his people struggle on
Keep still? ...Keep quiet?
Has all the work been done?

Remember:

Joe's dreams
Shakka's screams
Mother's crying
Children dying
Policemen hosing
Prison doors closing
Dog attacks
Refusing the back
College sit-ins
Integration begins
Malcom's plight
Martin's fight
Jesse's stand
RESPECT, DEMAND!
Mandela's victory
Apartheid's history

A borrowed ear, Joe's tale's been told
Yet the struggle remains
Speak Out! Shout Loud! the time has come
Total freedom we must regain

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