The Tree Strange Fruit
The tree of oak blowing in the breeze many things have come from the tree.
Love of life eternally.
Strange fruit bore from this tree
I see feet dangle from the branch.
I cry to the top of my lungs Brother do you need help?
No reply or motion at all.
The tree was the death of many that fall.
The tree has haunted me in my sleep, I see my Ancestors way down south through the muddy creek lay another body's dangling feet.
The tree has taken many to the promise land.
Only because of the color of their skin.
Blood on the leaves and blood on the root.
Never bite or steal this strange fruit.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
