• _aisha 5w

    We are Here

    We are here
    Waiting to be told we have suffered enough
    To be told that we no longer deserve to die

    as we waited on those fields where we picked at white fluff
    And bowed to white men
    Dieing at the hands of white cloths
    made from the white cotton
    we picked
    Hung from the ropes that
    we wove

    Swinging with the soft breeze
    of 'Change gon come'
    Sung by great mothers
    and great fathers

    Under trees
    where our great children
    would one day seek shelter
    From bullets
    aimed for their soul
    their mind
    - their lives

    Bullets shot from the barrel of home
    From the barrel of America
    And held in the hands of 'freedom' and 'protection'

    Are afraid to stand
    incase we stand out.
    And stray bullets aimed for our brothers may find us if we stand too tall

    - Aisha Balde