Inspired by the Visit to the Slave port in Nigeria

I’ve been a victim
The Portuguese cut off my hands
The Belgians broke my knee
They lynched me in Texas
I was branded JR in Baltimore
All the way from Africa to Georgia
I carried my sorrow songs
To the deeps of my soul
I made ragtime

I’ve always been a survivor
Raised on grinding stones
and vast lands further than the black in my hair
Resilience stretching farther
Than whip lashes on my back
Bleeding fingers toiling land and staining white cotton
Resurrected from graves soiled in melanin
My black sustains your moons
And my limbs stand strong
In life’s sandstorm; I survive, I excel…




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