I must not despair



I must not despair
that this Home for All
belongs only to the few
the pallor of Baker’s fat clock cock
mounting the wet Black mound where
Lord Graham razed us to the ground
and burned our crops
and stole our land
and raped our womyn
and cast this yoke on our children
which they still bear


I must not despair
but resolve
I have hands
I must use them
and burn it all to the ground
if I must
because I must
and colour this Black scorched earth
and the Black bones that carry it
with the red ochre stain
that seeped into the ground
with every order to fire!
and charge!
we are at war, after all

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