Freedom Poem by Michael Ordia

Mama, what does it mean to be free?
To think and act on your own?
If they free our skin will they free our minds?
Will we learn to love and appreciate one another?
Will my bronze skin be beautiful?
Will men admire my kinky hair
Will they rather look at her pale skin in awe?
Can we be truly free or will it be an illusion?
Will we stand equal or forever inferior to colonizers?
If freedom walks in
Will we mourn our brothers or sing songs of freedom
Mourning is easy, we mourn daily
If we are to sing freedom songs
How will we sing songs we were never taught
If freedom doesn't walk in
Will we be slaves forever?
Mama, what does it mean to be free?