A Brief Journey Through Black History Poem by Joseph Ogbonna

Once I was scourged by the task master's horse whips,
consigning me for two centuries to servitude.
I had my roots forever erased by forced trips
to Worlds unknown, where contemptuous attitude
to my skin colour sure relegated me
to the background of an odious racial caste
system in the Occident governed by hate.
The cold, snow-covered climes of the West I see,
with cotton fields revived, while blacks tormented strive
for freedom from slavery's merciless back breaking yoke.
With red scars on weary backs, they fight to survive
the chains and fetters the abolitionists broke,
having their sweat and blood water the cotton fields
which bring bumper harvests to their task master's guilds.