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We have crossed many of a pregnant river,
Leaving taunting umbilical memories behind---
Memories that cause the soul to rock and shiver;
And send excruciating pain ravaging the mind.
So many thousands are we---project dwellers---
Corralled within politico-economical confines;
Our opened cells---training grounds for social work
Skills and dope sellers:
These urban, ebony compounds of socio-cultural dirt,
Reflect incarceration times---
But these neo-colonial type holding enclaves,
need not be like reflections of the holding frounds
Of the slaves;
Basketballs and nikke's---footballs and jerseys---
Could buy up and restore these urban territories;
Establishing sound economical, political and cultural
Communities:
Come brothers; come sisters; let us pool our resources;
Bring forth these realities.
