Who feels the pain of the Mothers of Africa? Who feels the pain of the Mothers of Africa? The Mothers who had their babies ripped from her flesh. Ripped from their flesh. Ripped to death. The Mothers who were carried away from babies to foreign shores to become white mens whores, The fantasy adored while Ms. Ann abhorred, Who feels the pain of the Mothers of Africa? When the rain falls and tatters the ground, Reminding her of the feet that once pounded the pavement, But now her enslavement is her sadness, Wounded again at the death blow of her Black sons, She is no longer a mom, Who feels the pain of the Mothers of Africa? Even when they gather to comfort each other, The only similarity is the lack of alacrity, While they grieve and shutter having flashback, No flashback, no flashback, no flashback, Play it again and there sons are still dead, dead, dead, Who feels the pain of the Mothers of Africa? These women who bore children out of rape, These women who bore children in a world filled with hate, These women who bore the blunt of being second yet strong, These women who bore the weight of running single parent homes, Who feels the pain of the Mothers of Africa? When her first born is the first gone and she returns home only to be alone, When justice gives her no peace and her golden years are stripped of her meat, When liberty has been spit on by black robes and a jury box with no diamonds or gold, When the blind eye was sold only to tell her she could no longer eat. Who feels the pain of the Mothers of Africa? Working day and night losing sleep and honor to support men children that never see manhood, Youthful dreams stolen like cotton feeling gunny sacks on Black backs for masters profit, While their childrens brains are blown out of the sockets in their own neighborhoods, And their daughters are shamed with stains of immoral lust and familiar rancid disrespect. Who feels the pain of the Mothers of Africa? When she cries no one wipes her tears or come near out of fear because she is the strong Black woman? Her back was made for bending her hands made for mending and her soul strong as an ox while her spirit is sinking. No hand out, no hand up, just empty cups and dumb luck wishful thinking for the woman who birth civilization. But its okay cause she still prays and encourages despite the forest of disappointment and mistreatment as the conscious of the nation. Who feels the pain of the Mothers of Africa? I do...as Bell ringing the alarm for Martin covered up for Brown in my skin with my hands up saying enough is enough. I feel the pain of my sister, my mother, my grandmother, the beautiful women that gave birth to my dark soul when second was never enough, I feel the languish in the night so I rise with my arms up not in surrender but to defend and deliver the goodnight blow to oppression, I make my confession to the commitment of those that have been taken out to say no more, To be the man that organizes, organizes, organizes, organizes, organizes, organizes, organizes until it is complete and we never look for peaceful shores away from home. Who feels the pain of the Mothers of Africa? Feel it and rise up! Feel it and rise up! Marvin Lyman 8/28/14
Posted on: Thu, 28 Aug 2014 06:16:15 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015