Push Through

This is the legend of Gbàdà,
the favourite of his former owner.

One day, his chains were removed,
and he was declared a free man.
In excitement, he began to dance,
on the broad road by the plantation,
all day, and all night,
and he hasn’t stopped since then.
He doesn’t know where home is;
he doesn’t know what home was.

He’s been released, but he’s not free yet;
he’ll be free when he stops dancing.
The blindfold’s off but he can’t see yet;
he’ll see when he stops laughing,
when he stops crying,
when he starts moving,
when he starts trying.

Maybe one day, he’ll get home,
if he doesn’t dance himself to death.
The name “Freeman” is as bad as “Ransome”;
he needs very thorough rebirth.

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The Earth’s Struggles

We have the colour of the earth,
but we are treated like aliens here.
Those who don’t have the colour of heaven
need to struggle harder than others
to get ‘heaven on earth’.

Everyone lives on earth,
on what it creates, what it supports,
what it gives, the harvest it brings,
but it gets trampled on anyway,
and so do we.

We’ll Get Back to You= We’ll Get “Bark” to You

You’re very qualified,
but you’re not.

“Accepted resumes should be printed on White A4s”,
but you were born with Black ones.

Your experiences and skills are printed in White,
just like everyone else’s,
but that’s never enough.

They’ll get back to you,
but don’t bother to wait for the barks;
their backs are already turned at you,
they don’t really hire the “darks”.