Sunday, 17 March 2013

Their Yesturdays

Image source: Google Images


Hair? Indian
Nose? English
Shoes? Italian
Nails? French
Accent? American
Skin? Undefined
Blood? African


Hair? Mocked by the oppressor’s pencil.
Nose? Ridiculed and shunned by he who knew no better, for it’s strength.
Shoes? The bare soles which tarried and ploughed the enemy’s field.
Nails? Scrubbed, sewed, built the oppressor’s home while their own homes lay in shambles.
Accent? Their voices were silenced with bullets while the oppressor vowed to silence them yet.
Skin? Charred by the harsh rays of the African, sun toiling for the enemy’s enrichment.
Blood? African

Yet still they trudged on-
Fought for their voices to be heard.
Streams of blood, soil and tears flowed the streets of our land
Their voices rose higher, swelled with oceans of pain
They could not be silenced yet.

They fought so the pencil would be a friend and not the enemy’s vice
That their nose would distinguish Africa from the world
They marched the streets barefoot that their children may walk as Kings and Queens on their land
They endured handcuffs and beatings so their children should be saved
They sang, shouted and cried for Freedom
Assaults, bullets and prisons where their homelife
Their blood was shed for Africa,
a continent of Kings and Queens stripped of their grandeur
bestowed on the Oppressor

We wear the enemy’s mind
Walk with our borrowed nose in the sky
Walk over their blood in the enemy’s feet
Work their fields with pride
Speak in their tongues against their fathers
Hiding behind a mask, ashamed of our skin
Your blood will forever be, African.

Candy Morrow


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  2. oh wow...what an awesome write.. really like how it develops..starting in such a light tone and as it goes gains more and more weight...

  3. Filled with passion.

  4. dang candy....powerful write....this builds to a furiousness that the message should as well....i wonder should we take on our oppressors culture and in it make the changes or do we lose too much of ourselves in the process....or is there anything left of what once was...

  5. Yesterday is history, tommorrow a mystery... what we have is today, the present (a gift).

  6. Hey Candy, this is great and original work - with real passion - my kind of stuff! I will be back for more.. Keep on keeping on... With Best Wishes Scott

  7. Thank you all very much. It is a crying or even a wailing shame that Africa's children should have self_degenerative qualities, but its not over. My voice will be heard yet!

  8. Grips the heart. I recently read a book on African stories and in those stories I noticed a lot of self-deprecating remarks that you speak of, it really breaks my heart when people are made to feel less than, when they can no longer see their beauty and worth but only themselves through the eyes of their oppressors.