Sins Of My Fathers Poem by venessa ambrose

Even time went past,
The hard decades,
Changed to centuries,
Ages flew with air.
Even the fathers,
And rulers of those days,
Rot in the soil.

Two faced skins,
Claims to justice,
Still the young,
Grows in the smoke,
The unfinished case,
And crying chains,
Of the souls gone!

Nation by nation,
Written words where made,
Papers made no changes,
The orientation said it all,
From conception it started,
Preference by pigments,
All for my black race.

I weep for the future,
The sins of their fathers,
Haunts them,
I weep! I weep!
Even oceans of rivers,
Wipes not all the pigment,
You are born this way.