Historical Poetry

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Historical Poetry

Stephanie Lahens, Poet

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My brother, my sister, there’s no love in your eyes.

At last freedom knows my name was what I tried to say

But although no longer in the midst of chains

The bars, small windows, lets me know I’m still being whipped with a bow

All we ever asked for was to be treated like humans, unlike before

The response for a minute brought relief, but soon came thunder; not in grey, but white… dragging us under

If you didn’t want us here all you had to do was leave us home

Mama, papa, nor I want to be subservient to you

You’re the one who came, decided, we were supposed to be on our knees before your “majesty”

Creating laws, form of restrictions, as if we are abominations

You say “in the name of the lord” and yet you look at me with hate

Have to fight to survive, us you desire to annihilate

Just so you know, if we go, you go; after all the same red we bleed.

 

None Won Victory

Gravity is pushing

So heavy

Dammit!

Why did this have to be?

Woke up this morning

With a sudden feeling

Of the changing of the tides

My world flipped on its side

War has come to door

On the floor, my heart on the floor

My son at War

My man at War

My world at War

May I ask what’s the point?

Of this war?

You scream “we’ll be victorious”

When the path you advocate for

Is nothing, but deleterious

In order to succeed

Many must bleed

To death that is!

There is no victory

In war

As The War Prayer States

What you ask of the Lord

Is to bring your worst Fear

Upon your “enemy”

The motion of the flag

Similar to the ocean’s swag

Through you the devil spoke

“The soil will be fertile”

When the truth is through

War our home broke

 

OF THE PILLARS

Never was in chains and  bounded

But my family tree was infected

Didn’t go on ancestry.com but it’s a known fact

Every African American were not treated with tact

My brother, cousins, and I

Represent all of the dust

That helped the holders trust

We’ll rise, though they want us to die.

No voice, no name, no education

Were some of Slavery’s conditions.

Half of America want to pretend

Such has no part in their history

The other half still don’t care to be a friend

Sorry I’m the wakeup call, the Civil War didn’t bring Slavery to an end;

For centuries it’s been perfecting its platform

The decedents of the Natives can attest to that

The “unpaid labor” has simply deform.

A police officer took a “black” man’s life

When reaching for identification

And the justification?

“Had a suspicion it was a gun or knife”

A “black” human being is still viewed as less than a “white” individual

Look up data regarding the pay check

We are all special

Yet, humans still, are finding something to stick into each other’s back

Living in a word that states Democracy is the foundation of America

Well, I have one request, tell that to Erica.

History proves freedom is a mere fantasy;

We’re being fed a bowl of hypocrisy.

 

Oh! You can hear the Roar!

For years we’ve been on the back wall.

Endured hell in order to walk through the burning hall.

For years we’ve had no choice,

We’ve had to reign in our shine, withheld our voice

The very breath we took was in captivity

All we could was dream

But then again such opportunity

Was in itself a rare possibility

Taken for granted

Never was wanted

Well the Era has come

Finally the cap has undone

Take this corset, I want oxygen

Enough of this nonsense; telling me what to do

Heard there’s new music, jazz it up, baby, jazz it up!

Finally going to do my dance

Took the chance

Got my suffrage

Enough of you holding me back

Finally going to do my dance.

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