Please,
let them babies taste some of that fruit.
Let them nurse from the sweetness of their ancestors’ roots.
Let them not thirst, grow hungry or beg from the hands of filth.
Please,
let them babies sip from your cup.
Let them cling to their own before time corrupts.
Let them reminisce what we used to and still taste like.
Please,
let the seeds see the seeds grow.
Let them not jam themselves into strange fruit.
Let them ripen in their rich dark skin.
Please,
let them not grow sour or bitter from within.
Let them not toil before rotting under the sun.
Let them grow raw and bare---
because all that black matters beyond the layer.
DelegantOne