Poem

I thought of a poem while reminiscing about the fun times i had with my wife and kids. Everyday, i am still praying for them to come back.

It was just an ordinary day,
When a messenger rushed from the bay,
We rushed to the beach, stopped and stared,
And on the bow of the ship a white man glared.

He talked to our chief,
And then took his leave,
We thought it would be end,
After our chief shook his hand.

A few months more,
Our countries would be no more.
Taken by white men, sliced and diced,
Treated us as if we were lice.

Black africans camouflaged in coal,
Europeans’ pockets lined with dirty gold.
Taking our lives and twisting it,
Grinding us down bit by bit

When will the digging end?
When will things be on the mend?
Ship after ship,
Country after country,
When will the african regain his land?


I hope god will grant my wishes soon.