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Antonio Wilson Poem
In the realm of ebony, a tale unfolds,
Where black wealth blossoms, its glory beholds.
A tapestry woven with brilliance and might,
A testament to dreams and relentless fight.
In the depth of history's intricate weaves,
Lies the spirit of resilience, refusing to grieve.
From shackles of bondage, emerged a flame,
Igniting a fire, defying all claims of shame.
From distant shores, ancestors once came,
Their spirits ablaze, aflame with a name.
Through hardships endured, they sought to thrive,
For within their hearts, determination would drive.
Through fields of cotton, they toiled the land,
Sweat blending with soil, forming a bond so grand.
With hands worn and weary, they built their dreams,
Laying foundations sturdy, sewing life's gleams.
From those humble beginnings, black wealth arose,
A testament to triumphs, a story that shows.
With passion as the fuel and knowledge as the key,
A legacy forged, unyielding and free.
Enter the streets where entrepreneurs stride,
Ideas transformed, barriers defied.
Innovation's dance, a rhythm unchained,
Black brilliance flourishing, no longer restrained.
In the world of arts, a kaleidoscope unfolds,
Melodies and verses, stories yet untold.
The brushstrokes of painters, visions come alive,
Capturing the essence, with creativity's dive.
From the boardrooms of power to halls of justice,
Black minds unite, their prowess they trust.
In leadership they rise, guiding the way,
Leaving an indelible mark, come what may.
Black wealth is a river, flowing wide and deep,
Through generations it journeys, secrets it keeps.
Rooted in culture, strength, and unity,
It weaves a tapestry of prosperity.
So let us celebrate this truth with pride,
The wealth that exists, impossible to hide.
Black brilliance shines, like stars in the night,
A testament to dreams and endless light.
Copyright © Antonio Wilson | Year Posted 2023
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Details |
Antonio Wilson Poem
In the depths of a world where shadows loom,
There was a black kid, lost in a system of gloom.
Born into a maze of poverty and despair,
He was a product of his environment's snare.
No silver spoon or opportunities fair,
Just crumbling walls and broken dreams to bear.
The streets became his classroom, his only guide,
Survival his mantra, hustling his stride.
Invisible chains wrapped around his soul,
Society's judgment taking its toll.
Neglected by a system that failed to see,
The potential within him, longing to be free.
He walked through life with a heavy heart,
Watching dreams evaporate, tearing him apart.
No mentors to guide, no paths to tread,
He found solace in corners where darkness spread.
Crime became his refuge, a distorted choice,
A desperate voice seeking to drown out the noise.
Caught in a cycle of pain and strife,
He fought to break free, to reclaim his life.
But let us not judge this young soul so fast,
For the system's grip was a powerful cast.
A victim of circumstances, a tragic fate,
Where hope was scarce and love came late.
So, let us pause and reflect on this tale,
Of a black kid lost, a spirit frail.
For in his struggle, we find a plea,
To heal the wounds of a broken society.
It's time to nurture and uplift those in need,
To plant seeds of change and sow a new creed.
For no child should be lost or left behind,
Let compassion and understanding be our bind.
May this spoken word be a call to action,
To dismantle the systems that breed dissatisfaction.
For every black kid lost, let's ignite a flame,
And give them the chance to reclaim their name.
Copyright © Antonio Wilson | Year Posted 2023
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