poems

STRANGE FRUIT, by Sean Brown

In water there’s Life,
But there’s a liquid much richer;
Through Blood flows the Life,
Of the cracker & the nigger;
The working class & the elite,
The wise man who Sees & the mute who can’t speak.
Imagine a Garden filled with different Trees,
And each one nourished from the Blood of Families.
Men lynched, Women raped, Children discarded like waste;
Their Souls soaking the soil where Seeds are planted & shaped.
Leaves drop dew that hold memories of Laughter,
Pain, & Tears…Life is the only Hereafter.
Those Who were here before Us wonder why We can’t See Them;
Please show Me a Man Who’s truly experienced Freedom.
The Last Breath from Our Fallen is the first for those Who Rise,
I can see My Grandmother’s Face looking in My Daughter’s Eyes.
My strive to reach Heaven is a trek in Hell’s Forest,
Wading through valleys where the Fruit’s turned rotten.
Strange Fruit bears Juice that can refresh a numb Soul,
One cup is enough to warm a Heart grown morally cold;
Opening the Eyes to See Life & remember It’s true worth,
Take a drink or take a bite, just stop ignoring the Pain which always accompanies a Rebirth!

SEAN BROWN
DOC #1083630

Categories: poems, Sean Brown

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