Have we so soon
Forgotten all we have gone through
How single heads
Lead so many heads
Without the fear of been dead
And how they all bled
For a course bigger than them
But that did not stop them
They had faith;
The gospel of believing
Though it came late
And longing; deep yearning
The dream and struggle for its reality
Bound us till date
We have come a long way
To lose remembrance and motivated wrongly
I can still reflect on leathered whips
On our tender skin
Cries of crudes, enslaved but a master to pain
What happened to the blood
Spilled at the cutting off
Of the chord of slavery
To birth us with unity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem