Indiginous Kind - Poem by KHAYA CLARENCE
Africa breeds children of a dark
melanic pigment, children that by
faith continue their identity and
adherence of their culture and
values of tradition and origin.
The gatherings of dances in cutural
ceremonies, the narration of stories
rich in wisdom about the culture of
Africans and their envisioned ancestors.
African child come home, the simple
life solely dependent on what nature had
given them to work with, it gave satisfaction,
the essence of belonging undoubtedly perspired
togetherness and novels of strong love.
Breathing hard wooden smoke in keeping the spiritual
warmth of man made flames, for the African child to eat,
to warm their hardened dark skins in family gatherings
against buggering cold in the open night.
See the endless-
valleys of fertile contours of wheat and maize embraced by
diamond and gold soil, see the African rivers that never
failed in meagerness, they persisted and stood through to
feed and quench the thirst of African child. Africa calls
you to come home child. The desperate tears of our forefathers
had gathered a stream for the lost African child, for the
abandoned fertile lands and forsaken values of Ubuntu.
I will not suffer lose in tears to delight sadness, but my heart
is bleeding for the lost African child.
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