PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Black new world


I still remember, the freedom and the trees I was surrounded by

Suddenly replaced by the dark stink of a crowded cargo hold

A collective nightmare sailing during an endless night

Hundred days it shall last, until you finally reach the new world

 

Centuries pass by, on a pace dictated by wasted lives

Never ending stock to satisfy the masters’ delight

Bitter tasting freedom as gift for troubling strive

Lawful masters's justice whose sirens stand for our plight

 

Unwelcome existences whose life's shorter and with no place to return

Black is the past whose ancestor’s hidden and cannot be found

Black becomes the present, whose cities to ashes must burn

 

Black is the future, once we turn to only chalk lines on the ground

  The father asked by his son about the meaning of this grief

  Unstoppably cries as he may be the next one to say I can’t breathe

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

7plasma

Migrated to https://allpoetry.com/Poetpower49

View all poems →

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.