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I am Stolen.
I am misused integrity

I am a product of violence and ignorance
My forefathers were sold for only sixpence.

Why am I not returned?
Does this make any sense?

Now im here on this broken land
Yet here I am proud I stand

I know I am stolen, but I stand as a man.

My heart is bold and my soul is deep
Ready to walk this hill so steep

I still feel the drums of my ancestor's beat
Feeling my heart pound as I walk down the street

This may no be home, but i must make it mine.
I may feel free, but I am the slave of the mind.

I am stolen
A misplaced property

I may be lost but I am still a man.
I may be in America, but Africa is my homeland...





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Ajanae D. said...
Sept. 26, 2009 at 10:22 pm
Wow, I absolutely love this poem. It really speaks to me. Please check out my poem "Our Generation". We half way had the same moral (not exactly) if you compare yours to mine. "I may feel free, but I am the slave of the mind," that is my favorite line. Great Job.
 
yoshi332 replied...
Dec. 2, 2009 at 8:03 pm
thank you i wrote this for my african american history class. I appreciate all the comments :)
 
xxxitsgreattobelovedxxx said...
Sept. 24, 2009 at 7:56 pm
i love your poem!
 
Paul G. said...
Sept. 24, 2009 at 5:00 pm
i like this a lot, really cool they way you took the view on a slave. and i have a question, how long does it take for poems to get approved???
 
xxxitsgreattobelovedxxx replied...
Sept. 24, 2009 at 7:57 pm
Paul? It takes about 2 weeks. or atleast thats how long it took 2 submit mine
 
Paul G. replied...
Sept. 24, 2009 at 10:01 pm
oooo lord lol
 
Paul G. replied...
Sept. 24, 2009 at 10:02 pm
and is there way other than this to talk to ppl here? like a messaging system
 
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