Far From Africa Poem by Renaldo Singh

O son of Africa
why sigh you so?
Your destiny speaks of uncertainty
of a grim and unfortunate tomorrow.

Once healthy hands of strength and power,
now bound in shackles ever so frantic.
No one can ever fathom or imagine,
what awaits you across the Atlantic

Salty tears flow while you wait
on a damned ship upon the water.
Intended not to move but only to groan
next to someone’s son or daughter.

The darkness of the hold is as the grave.
A bloody tomb of clenching teeth and pain
laden with a stench ill for lungs
Never to see beloved Africa again.

Look what the future entails.
No rainbows over that horizon.
Loneliness foresees so much pain.
Men of whips and psychological poison

The Caribbean exudes warmth and beauty
and welcomes with a graceful hand,
but slaves are exempt from such a privilege.
You must work this land!

Hard work is recognized by the blood you shed.
This is the call for slaves of scorn
Such men disgraced, stripped of dignity
faces of anguish, weary and worn.

Be not weak-willed, though your situation is strange
and remember when you gaze upon this doomed place,
earthly rewards are not yours to get
but surely in death, you’ll find solace.