What It's Like To Be a Descendant of a Slave

Born from a generation of mighty men
Conceived in love, raise by a queen
Driven from our home land 
Force to work deprived of knowledge,
Beaten to a pulp, slaves all are we 
Misunderstood taken for granted
Abused and used, our history hidden
A nation forgotten, people lost and confused
Strife and war, drugs and guns 
Handed to us too start our own bloody war.
Death and fear sits at our door
Our mothers can’t take anymore as our corps lay still on the floor.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2009

Poem

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

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace