Whitesheets

by BlackMinerva


The hot wind blows fire against my bruised & cracked skin
I can hear the whispers as the whitesheets looked at me with a grin
If I could spit on their faces I would but my tongue is half-bitten & swollen
They beat every inch of me, from the top of my head to the bottom of my colon
I can't feel my fingers as the whitesheets broke each one
Please God, keep my seeds safe especially my beloved son
Before I could blink or even comprehend this abnormality
They took my suffering to a new level in this never ending brutality
"Damn nigger, should have gave me some poontang, now we got to give you a scare"
As he tightened the rope around my neck, someone kicked the chair
Oh God, a tear falls as the noose grows tight
Another piece of fruit for whitesheet's burial site
My eyes rolled up to the heavens and wished for death soon
The stench of rebellion is heavy on the day in June
I refuse to close my eyes as death takes my soul
Whitesheets, when you walk past this tree remember the nigger you couldn't control 

Whitesheets by BlackMinerva

© Copyright 2002. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.



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