Post war babies, children of black rule
pick on both sides of the cake turned stale bread,
thoughts unpredictable, unstable, aliens in their own mother land
they know nothing about this world, neither do you
and your rusty guns,
wars were fought,
will still be fought,
we do not feed on bullets,
like virgins we cannot conceive from past relations
born free from white rule,
white hate and white disgust,
chosen never to face those treacherous smiles,
to be stared at like dogs, but fed less,
freckled faces, forever sweating and fainting under the African sun,
too sacred to join the rest of their kind,
where their 'supremacy' will cease to be
born under the rod of the same python chameleon,
its only assumed a different shade,
once white...now black, but it has not lost any of its fangs,
the hunger remains, the segregation remains
joblessness and destitution among blacks still remains,
the buildings have grown bigger but emptier
living in this black shell is still unbearable,
born free,
born yes, free no
the chains around mama AfriKa also surround us,
we will never be free
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh, it smell of racism, but all human beings need to realise that without one another we will never survive and the globe would not go round. An raise without another race will never survive. When we kill each other we are killing our self, but we only need unit because we cannot live on the past but only reconslate the past.