Why convict past, for the inequities, you earnt
Which legacy, have you built, of your own
Portraits of pity, stomp, American flags, burnt
With black blood, scrape, graffitis on, white stone!

What had, you brought, from where, you came
Bare, faithless hearts, fistfuls of fear
Without a face, without a name
Only oblivion, you learnt, to bear!

Still a, black man is, what a, white man thinks
When will he, break out, of his prison
It’s not, black skin, black piety, that stinks
Ain’t, ethnic self-pity, black man’s invention!

American dreams, of, Africans
Are ethnic enigmas, to never, fulfill
Flirting with, the same, shenanigans
Have Blacks, Not Learnt, To Matter, Still!

© 2020 Vikas Chandra