Sitted in the dark,
Adan of colour black
Feels like one in a closet stuck
He is condemned; he is black
But Adan ain't dull
Adan sulks when upset
Immediately he is judged
To have been dull from the onset
'Ancestors of his must have plunged
His plight into this pit'
Why do they shout,
That Adan looks hungry,
When he is only angry?
Yes he is hungry
But more so angry
At you who took his bowl of pastry
And now give it to him 'kindly'
In pretense of charity
Adan is black
His complexion doesn't lack
His ways are Heavenly luck
He mourns wearing white
For 'tis what he affords by his plight;
What he has on sight
For corpses have nothing
But the casket and everything
Black ain't dull
It shines like the nape of a seagull
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem