STRANGE FRUIT
From this tree I hang, motionless
Like a dry leaf I hang, lifeless
A fruit like no other I am
A fruit that resembles the black man
I am often called strange
Perhaps it’s because I am
Or perhaps it’s because of who I am
Or maybe it is because of what I am
I hang from this tree, motionless
Like a dry leaf I hang, lifeless
A strange fruit, I am
Simply because I am a black man
Some say I have no core,
I do not have a seed
So perhaps, just by chance
I am a “strange fruit” indeed
The juice that seeps from me
Is neither sweet nor sour
This juice that runs from me
Makes me no good to eat
This strange fruit hangs from a tree, motionless
Like a dry leaf I hang here, lifeless
Waiting to be plucked from this branch
To be laid to rest peacefully
My life has been in vain
I have ripened here in pain
Still, my pain remains
Still I am constantly called “Strange”
I have been told to “Have Faith”
Life for me will change
Things will become rearranged
And the world will know the truth about us “Strange Fruit”
Written Dec 26th 2010 by Natasha Maginley-Francis
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem