Under The Dinner Table
Long ago there was an uproar,
Albeit not present during the upheaval,
But I can grope the concussion,
Our archetypes whimpering uncontrollably.
Their whines enfolding the essence,
The soil they were laid under getting vicious,
Their selves no more at solace,
Their ambience out of composure.
Their voices alerting us of western leverage,
Warning us not to copy-paste all their actions,
Reminding us before the white man came,
The black man still breathed and worshipped.
Read Also: Written Poem: Hardship – Jeremy Mugo
So to them who scooted and sorted our land,
And made us work on our land,
Massacred our great parents!
Must not manipulate us anymore!
Black man in eclectic Africa,
Still huffing under the dinner table,
Being dined upon by the conceptual West.
Must now see what the white man saw when they were still in a slumber.
Poet Nazir is a writer and an editor here on ThePoetsHub. Outside this space, he works as a poet, screenwriter, author, relationship adviser and a reader. He is also the founder & lead director of PNSP Studios, a film production firm.
