Melanin

This brown skin

This brown skin is terrified

These cells cry out

My melanin remembers the motherland

Remembers the rocking of the undercurrent on that ship

The shackles around my ankles

The whip cracking my back

This brown skin tearing open and bleeding
I remember trading freedom for service

We got some acres

But no respect

We sat in diners but were not served

We drank from fountains but were not quenched
You ask

Why do we gather?

Why do we gather?

Why do we cry out?
This brown skin is terrified.

Our cells cry out.

Our melanin does not forget.

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About jonnealscott

Wife.Mother.Poet.Artist. View all posts by jonnealscott

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