Dear Friends, here’s another exceptional poem by K. Morris written for BlaPoWriMo. Please show him your love.
Walking around the Museum of Slavery, in Liverpool
I come face-to-face with the cruel
Where ships crossed the ocean vast
With their human cargo.
Many a negro
Paid for beautiful properties to be built
By Liverpool merchants who gave
Generously to charity
To set themselves free
That slavery isn’t new.
It was practiced in Greek and Roman time,
Yet the crime
Of the transatlantic slave trade
More of a mark
Perhaps because those of lighter skin
Committed the sin
Of taking those of dark
From their native land,
Which was a rejection
Of the truth that beneath the skin
We are one in nature
(Or god the creator),
Depending on your view
Of what is true.
Our love died long ago
And I know
Not what Happened to you.
But I remember walking through
Just Two lovers of different…
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