My Heart Speaks

We aren't free

I may or may not 😅 have written this in a fit of rage and sadness...i will probably take this down later but for my favorite amd only reader...kinal ... giving you a glimpse of one of my angry banter...
I read a poem titled grieved land of Africa... and I was so hurt, because we are barely free, 😢😖😖... it's hard because my skin color makes it hard for me to get a job, or I can't enter the places with signs that say whites only...it's painful really....😭😭...but am okay...now read😊

We still surviving
Plants still growing
Oil is still pouring
Despite the inhumane treatment
We're still sharing
You still killing
We are still slaves, just modern ones.
It ain't stopping, it hasn't!

I doubt it ever will
We are healing alright
But old scars die hard
Sad really, cause we are babarians, yet you made holes through our mouths and padlocked it,

You marked out flesh, just so you could differentiate us, ever heard of ID cards, or perhaps passport, cause today you seem to identify people by that.

Or were we too black for you? You couldn't tell the glowing white glistening orbs of our mothers who cried, you couldn't see the biceps of our fathers who ploughed, all you could see were black sheep's who needed to be caged and chained..

You couldn't feel the rapid beat of our hearts, just like yours,
You couldn't see the red blood that flowed through our vains when you whipped and battered our flesh,

You couldn't see that we had a pair of legs and hands,
But sure animals do too, you couldn't see that we were humans just like you!

The law was passed down and it read righteous freedom,
To decieve our blistered minds that we were once again equals, we were once again free, the chains were broken and the cages were opened...
So that crippled men and women could walk on their two feets,
To see the wide world, the beauty of nature and their destroyed homes, so that they could see how much their pride had been tattered and rubbished,

And so the crippled people smiled and laughed, unaware that they still remain modern slaves, their culture faded, their heritage crumpled, their rightful treasures taken, their names jumbled,
Today their captors flourish, the greatest of the greatest, flaunting stolen goods right in our faces,

Sure! They set us free, and today they smile at us, and laugh with us,

Nevertheless many still snicker behind, snare in disgust as if we don't shower, after all we are black, as they have deemed us, I swear I thought this color was brown !
I thought it was because we were nomads, and locals, who didn't know how to use their treasures,

Now we are wearing your clothes, we are speaking your language,we studying! Getting educated in your ways and philosophy,
Yet! Breonna is dead, Ahmaud is dead, George can't breathe and we aren't free!