We sit across each other
Trading cotton and sugar cane
On an empty table
With nooses 'round our necks
Like leashes
And scars stretched amongst our backs
Dug deep into our bones
Reaching the root of our souls
As we remember our ancestors burdens
And hold the weight of our skin
Like carrying 6 feet of dirt
As we stay in the ground
And bury ourselves under their reign
The floor is still an unforgiving home
Our knees feel welcome to
Our chains our still too heavy
to let us stand on our own
And our tears parade our beaten cheeks
With rage that has been
built for many generations
As we grind our teeth with the ferocity
Of your lynch mobs
We can still hear their grim screams
Centuries later
As we trade our only pieces of worth
Our sugar cane and cotton are not
Enough to keep us alive
When they've already planned our genocide.
-A.a
