The root of the issue,
Continues to be mocked.
Then dropped.
The root of the issue is watched.
As if to be,
A pebble not a rock.
The root of the issue is kept ignored.
Hoping that concern for this,
Begins to bore.
But the root of the issue has weeds.
Smothering the core of it until it leaves,
A loss of a future and its destiny.
Left...
Bled to bleed.
The root of the issue is a color block.
With many standing by wanting it stopped.
The root of the issue is a color block.
Whether to confess it or never to address.
The root of the issue is a color block.
And obvious it is who spreads this fear.
With a wanting their self righteousness,
Known and made clear.
Submitting to their ignorance will never
disappear.
Although the root of the issue,
To commit to ridding it.
Provides humanity with a wealth of benefits.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A well written poem. The issue perplexes those who know that we are all related from Africa. We trekked as brothers and sisters. How has ignorance dominated?