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.