Slavery - Poem by Justin Boyd
Being a millionaire, not that's something to wrap your mind around.
Being able to do anything, have anything, and go anywhere.
There is only 1 thing between me and that much money,
and that thing is called LIFE.
Having that much money,
is a fictitious thought.
But a black being sold into slavery,
not that is completely different and real.
No answers to silent the voices,
not stopping the pain of the silent cries.
warped into their personality.
Being a matter of the color of their skin,
not accepted, always ignored, eternally judged,
by the elements of everyday life.
Comments about Slavery by Justin Boyd
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You