My shadow darkens its red floors again
With a subtle smile; a deserved decor to my face
Time has passed but so little change
My head held up high;like a peacock's hanging in space
With a new pair of eyeglasses to see through
'tseems like living the same life but anew
The same castle, I keep walking through
Yet my world looks so different; so new
Of our erstwhile clamoured rights
Looking suprisingly wrong
Those acts we were so quick to justify
Fast precipitating out as inappropriate ones
But I grew up on this sugarcane field
So much stress; too much toil
With little or no compensatory yield
Our sweats flooded the soil
Has my skin been bleached to white?
A red whip in my hand for my fellow negro
Shall I take solace? Being cruel to be kind?
Or dare to be another Django?
No comments:
Post a Comment