Black History month
A time to remember
A time to remember the struggle of black people
The struggle of my people
You gave us the shortest month of the year
Pretending that you care
Pretending that you regret enslaving my people
Pretending that you regret putting my people in shackles
You forced my people to work
Long hours in the cotton fields
Without a dropp of water
To quench our dying thirst
Without a piece of bread
To relieve our hunger
We worked for you
Not by choice
But by the jagged edges of the whip that watched over us
Without a heart
You let us work
You watched our close to lifeless bodies
Struggle in the fields
To please you
Not by choice
But by the whip that watched over us
With little pieces of cloths
We wrapped our hands
Desperately trying to relieve our aching palms
We worked for you
Not by choice
But by the whip that watched over us
And all you gave us was a month?
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Copyright by Mark Dixon,2003. All Rights Reserved.
Mark Dixon
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/black-history-month-2/
