What shall I tell my son who is black what it means to be a captive in his dark skin fruit of my womb. When I dry his tears and whisper yes, that's true but no less beautiful and dear. How can I get him to square his shoulders, look his adversaries in the eye? He will be undoubtful about his worth, He will stand still and so cavalier What can I do to give him strength, to lift up his head in Proud Blackness.... Please know my son, I am you and you are me and(that's how)life goes on Being a man with the TRUTH.
Reason for writing:
Raising two(2) sons in a dark and often lonely world...I want them to know the Truth! Comments are welcomed...thanksBirth sign: Not entered
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by Jauhara*Virgo*.