Celebrating 50:Xvii
I cannot forget
So easily how many died this good season
I must not regret
The Christ who alone died for the best of reason
But when Tacky fell
And all the slaves in banished freedom died in vain
My anger still swell
Against that colonial treason. O disdain!
Then Sam Sharpe like Christ
Heard the throng, and the wicked gallows faced alone
I count treason thrice
And yet know once more
How Rastafarians hunted like pennd hogs fell, cast
By a lie that tore
Into the heart of some close to me. Hate too passed.
Easter now again
The season of insurrections and rebellions
The time to audit pain
Against the powers that rule trampled minions
Always at this time
Comes the blow against human worth and our freedom
In this haunted clime
I will avoid Jerusalem till our God come.
Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2012
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