poem

[rayjones]

Eracist

What is the color of a man,
Is it black or is it tan
Rusty brown or yellow red,
It is all just in our head

Names we think but dare not say
Around certain people anyway
You see that’s where it all begins
Hating others for their skins

Grim dark yesterday
White would carry black away
Linked by pinching rusty chains
Greedy hearts and shriveled brains

Packed like fishes in a can
Flesh for profit was the plan
All their moans and pleading cries
All their ignored unanswered whys

A coffin made of ship deck board
For this hapless dark skinned horde
Destined to stand naked on the block
While aristocrats take stock

Trembling babes and nursing mothers
Were no different than the others
Each human soul put up sale
Bought by buyers bound for Hell

Bleeding shrinking ’neath the whip
For shade of skin and shape of lip
And when their worth is fully spent
Back to the fields corpses sent

Enslaved now to rock and soil
Still enslaved to earthly toil
Their prison field so rich and lush
Their rotting flesh-soil feeding mush

Is there now a different day
Have we found a better way
Are there people who still say
They’re not people anyway

Unborn unseen by light of day
Why not harvest and fillet
This little one on his birthday
He’s not yet human anyway

[PrinceMyshkin]

The last verse of all had a powerful sting to it but I'm afraid that the AA/BB rhyme scheme in the previous verses soon became predictable & distracting. It's the simplest of rhymes schemes and therefore the hardest to do unobtrusively.

Of course the sentiment throughout this is admirable.

[Sapphire]

Eerie - every verse made the knot in my stomach grow bigger. Remarkable.

I did not even notice the rhyme scheme, I got grasped by it all - hoping there might be some comfort in the last verse. It was not there.

Thank you for sharing, Sapphire.

[rayjones]

I've written much brighter poems than this one. I'll probably post them here sooner or later. Thanks for reading Ray