SECTION FIFTEEN
THE POETRY PAGE

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COLUMN SEVENTY-EIGHT, NOVEMBER 1, 2002
(Copyright © 2002 The Blacklisted Journalist)

SLAVE LEGACY  

Some veiled Slaveship pain
In a guitar weep, a harmonica sound
 
wrapped their hurt in a cotton song
carried their dreams in northern bags
spilled their blood on concrete streets
left their labor in factory plants
tried to get over-easy in the numbers game
buried their children w/bullet wounds & razor cuts
gave their future to different gods
laughed a lot -
mostly cried when nobody was around
somebody was always there
 
took dirt, washed it clean
thought wealth came from work
harder they worked
less they had
more they gave
more they had too
givin blood didnt count
if they screamed too loud
would never be heard of again
 
their children were shunned
had sounds that embarrassed others
ways that showed their color
 

they became nobodys children
without mama or daddy
yet they came
in generations
who was they?
where did they come from
what made them do the things they do
roamed about
picking up their history
orphans lookin for their parents
 

found their birthplace
traced it across the water
where colors integrated with the Sun  ##

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