macaulay akinbami Poems
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The White Man’s Grave
This school is not our school
We have our own.
This culture is not our own,
I know it well.
They teach us science
What is it?
And philosophy of their own.
When they say knowledge,
Who is a fool?
Pluto, Plato are not blacks
They impose on us
And make it law.
And have us in their rule condemn
These men are wicked
Tell them so.
In our pain they make their mansion
And gave us food from our wage.
Before your Mathematics,
I know the numbers of my wives
And your Geography.
I know the road to my farm.
Before your ...
The Sin Of My Coat
When I return from this conscious slavery, I will tell,
I will tell of a subjugation, the spite and silent disdain
I will tell of the avoidance and the exclusives space on public bus
I will tell of the common embarrassing quiz and the suspicious looks
I will tell of the erratic change of mind and the one ninety degrees turn for my sake
If I return, I will tell so many
If I return from this distance voyage from home, I will tell
I will tell how it is not over on their minds