Genre: Philosophical

MAN OF COLOUR
by Pam Choji Samuel

A generation that grew to see,
The battle handed them,
Atrocities the metropoles did,
Submerged in their existence,
Their dreams sold as they were “discovered”,
Self-doubt staining their minds,
Enjoyed nature,
Same nature watched them being nurtured,
Nurtured with chains and whips,
Having to whims and caprices,
Their history became a luxury,
The pale saw a wrong with the black,
Above that, he saw the economy,
Now lost for centuries,
With the foundation being injustice,
What he was still haunts,
I am a man of colour,
My blood isn’t colourless, neither is my skin,
Though that of my soul, I do not know,
Certainly, my conscience is battered like a faded fitted for a plow,
Yet with the beauty and radiance of a lawn!

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