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Theme: Black History
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Source: Google image.
Because we are black
We were shipped under the deck
To a land we have no family
To work with without a pay.
In the ship we were arrayed
Like sardines inside a Can arranged
No space for any to breath
Or a little movement to create
The bangles we wore on our ankles
Have turned to chains that dangles
The shakes of our dance steps
Became a movement we did so stiff
The leaves and hides on our body
Has changed to a fabric like a baby
Our music and songs of festivals
Have become shouts in little intervals
Our congregational eating habit
Has became work without limit
We were given little or nothing
To eat and work to do something.
If we became weak or were ill
When our native doctor would stand still
They only throw us away
Or keep us separate in disarray.
They were called our masters
But they only serve as punishers
Who tortured our boys and men
And sexually assaulted our women.
They had no heart in their chest
But dust and anger kept in a nest
They eat our future raw
And in our traditions they gnaw.
Today, in the world there's no difference
We also speak with all affluence
We give command while they do follow
Even as our colours does not follow.
This poem is about African history. Written by 
![DQmTExCr2XkLNUiXoERBpRa5GHZEUmWqjC6i2i9oibvvBr2.gif](