White Pope, Black Cross!

White Pope, Black Cross!

We were separated at the branches, but they forgot the roots!
We were cast into the cold,
Like cheap meat we were sold,
Into a heartless market, filled with whips, gunpowder and muskets.
We were separated at the branches, but they forgot the roots,
So into the hands of our new masters of far away,
Do we unwillingly our destinies castaway
For pain with no option can be a fantasy,
A fantasy that all would reject,
Where the white skin reflects that the dark skin is a defect.
We were separated at the branches, but they forgot the roots,
Nourished with water and minerals from the soil,
We enriched these foreign lands with our toil,
A solution to a white economy, with permanent scares that will haunt future generations,
Nightmares with white giants and black cries are our only source of revelations
To the horror that should never be repeated.
Even though the branches were cut, the roots remain, and so we were never defeated.
For we were separated at the branches, but they forgot the roots!
And today, we stand as one,
With education and enough resources to grow our once lost empire,
But our desire, is deemed a threat to he that rides from the West, on a quest,
To keep these sons of Nubian Pharaohs at the bottom of the economic ladder,
But he must try harder,
For in their selfish laughter, there exists a pinch of fear.
The fear for the total awakening of the black continent,
To take back our place,
Without need for atomic or nuclear power,
But with the renewal of our minds, and the discipline of our bodies,
We shall rebuild our tower.
Amen.

BY JERRY WONDER

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