PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

My mother gave birth to me at sixteen
And my father was a former gangbanger;
By being born in a rain was not so keen,
Because my health was in danger;
Fortunately for me, I didn't have to struggle
When they both had paved a pathway,
One only for my brother and I of snuggle;
We didn't have it like they did back in the day.

I may not have partaken hardknoncks yet,
But I always was inquisitively curious
Asking political queries with a grown mind set;
I only discovered ideas that makes us furious
Like having the smallest month of geological years;
After all the things we've done for the nation,
We, like our oppressor shed sweat, blood, and tears;
Yet, we must use that month for a celebration?

We gave an abundance to save a lifelong lie
In our oppression of this cryptomental demise;
My tribal faith in a nation for which many had to die
Made us disperse without the truth to realize
That we are still deprived of the nation's best;
Things, we had done for our own rights
Are ignored by the Bushes' eye of hostile conquest;
We are again provoked to forfeit the national fights.

Many of our own were sworn in armed forces
Not by a will of choice, but by a reluctant draft
Fighting for a nation of defaults with no remorses
And return in the ghettos once we drop the haft;
Drop the haft not in death or defeat;
However, drop it in inquiry or victory;
What type of promissory union retreat
On making one better if he or she made history?

Jewish survivors of the holocaust so tragic
Had receive a grand recompense;
American slavery survivors received a magic,
If our return of wages were gone or just condense;
Jews not only got a freedom, but a reward;
Still, we know no reward transcends a beloved one,
Because their life brought light like money can't afford;
If you seek American slave compense, you'll find none.

On any and every application's ethnic section,
Black or African American is the last choice enlisted;
What is this? Some kind of corrosive rejection?
If not and it is nothing, then I truly missed it;
Why is my tribe to be the last?
Are we just there, because we are there?
Why must just come after others and a vast?
Is this not the nation of liberty which is allegedly fair?

Several oppressors of my tribe pride being wealthy
When it was the commerce of my progenitor's labor
Which made your ancestors' riches so stealthy;
Then, the oppressors get a mouth of rancid savor;
Don't ever tell a tribe member of mine
That Africa is our true home again!
For, my forefathers were kidnapped to the vine
Which grows from this American soil of great sin.

Traverse the seas until you reach land;
Land of another yet prosperous nation
And you shall see what I don't understand;
There is not a single racial separation,
Like a Black or White or Native of a race
In Europe, Africa, Asia, or South America;
The United States of America's where racism takes place;
You're born a typical citizen in a place out America.

One must muse profoundly
Of what tribe am I;
I phonate to thee astoundly
Without any cause to lie;
I am an orderly of the African American tribe
And endeavoring to find the lost tribe of peace;
So someday, we can jot down and transcribe
Of true global liberty as it was released.