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This poem speaks of the people and history of Africa, and consequences derived there from. |
| We follow the deep prints which they left like warts across our land; boot prints and sliding bare foot prints engraved as an indelible brand. We traced the slave trail white-men took herding off our sons, our wealth, in fetters and chain with many a stroke to corrals far from the land of their birth. And from fields grown lush by their salty sweats, great nations sprang wrought by pains and tears- time has passed, but poor Africa still smarts from those welts which won't disappear. So now we ford vast oceans un-derailed seeking lands where our creams were spilled. We'll tread this same trans-Atlantic trail till we savage long lost dreams yet unfilled. A trail once blazed leads men both ways; so on we go as they came long ago. While some may fall, these feet won't stray; for stand we must from where we fell by their blows. |