A Poem of Remembrance

A while ago, I wrote this poem inspired by a picture of a black, southern, slave with scars on his back in  National Geographic's Concise History of the World (2006). Love that book. Sadly I don't have a photo, because I'm not at home and will not be back for about a week.

Since it's black history month, I thought it might be nice to post it, although I'm not the biggest fan of the month, but that's another issue. No name for the poem because I suck at naming things :)

Untitled

The scars of my people rang hot on your back

Their pain was yours to carry

The suffering, the crying of a nation spent,

Their hurt is what made you wary

But somewhere inside a part of you said

I come from a long line of kings

Brave people and faces who toughed all strife

Who were guided by a voice within

Your scars are reminders of battles long fought

The pain a distant numbness inside

My nation no longer weeps great tears

But still struggles to keep hurt aside

The thoughts and ideas that held us captive so long

Are still keeping many souls hostage

There's a long way to go until true acceptance is found

Until we're finally free of this bondage

But we give thanks to  those who gave hope to the people

Thanks to those whose voices rang loud

Thanks to the hearts who gave everything they had

We promise, we'll make you proud