POETRY

I AM NOT A SLAVE

I am a product of a nation
Which was stung by the bee of slavery
That I am
But that is centuries ago
I was never a slave
I acknowledge the pains of my caught brothers and sisters of my ancestors
That should not drag me
Into caves of self sympathy
Wallowing in the dirt of self pity

III
When a match stick strikes the cheek of its box
And kisses the stove to light
It has finished its work
It behoves the flames to heat the saucepan
To help it boil its content
So why will the stove cry to put out its flame
For the matchstick which fought so hard
To strike the cheeks of its box
To see it glow?

IV
I am no slave
I am a fortunate soul fiercely fought for
I look forward to the highest of successes
And have no time to be the dirt to be stepped on
I am a liberated soul
And have no time to complain about a shame that needs burial
Why don’t my people see?

V
I am what I was made
Strong-willed
Capable
Beautiful
Glowing with sun and moon
My mood has no time to roost on pains of yester years
Let black shine with me
To heat enlightenment
To feed glory to our generations
Traveling through our proceeds to the future
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) Nov. 20, 2016

Tags POETRY., SLAVERY, TOP AFRICAN POETS

By amoafowaa

Just a simple Ghanaian trying to find the best in our society. I may be fun, I may be interesting, I may be funny, I may even be foolish or intelligent, but it is all based on the mood in which you find yourself. I believe our minds make us who we are. Know that, pain, no matter its 'unbearability', is transient. Unburden or delight yourself for a while in my writings please. And all corrections, advice and opinions are welcome. Know that you are the king, queen or royal on this blog. :)

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6 replies on “I AM NOT A SLAVE”

Sister remember your kidnapped cousins, sisters and brothers gently. We who were taken away. Stolen. Think of you always. Wishing we too could come home.

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We think of you always too Sister Debbie. The problem is, most use the slave trade as an excuse to live in corruption, always looking for aid from the very people who uprooted some of their roots and replanted them in their midst so crudely.
Neo-colonialism is hampering our progress, complaints outmoded are sitting on our development. If only we could stop these and concentrate, perhaps we can make room for our dear ones like you to come home.

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