Looking upon this tree
From which my brothering hangs
With no life
With no words to say
Hanging from this tree was a true friend in deed
One who stood up for me
Blood and the smell of burning flesh is all around
I hear them say “ Kill That Nigga”
All I can think about is if that was me
Strange fruit falling, burning and being chopped off this tree of our history
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem