A Poem: Souls of Black Folk by Brian Thomas

A little background. I wrote this poem for a class my sophomore year. I was having a very race conscious semester, taking the following classes: 20th Century Black Poetry,
Capitalism and Slavery, and Interracial Interactions and Inter-group Dynamics. Needless to say I took in a lot of information and my last class, a poetry writing class, gave me a venue to express my thoughts. Hope you enjoy.
Souls of Black Folk
by Brian Thomas
Soul black
And blue like denim,
Heart hard
Blood diamond ring.
Life for me lacks Sympathy, I know why
Caged bird sings. I
Child of century 21st, am product of degradation,
Son of segregation.
No floor
Board supports my education
So mind lacks walls and structure
Lips stutter from hesitation.
Coach-class citizen in dire need
Of salvation
From this prison, I’ve been trapped,
Since moment of conception,
Cell of color.
Veil descended,
I lack stage direction.
There is no guide. No voice that calls,
“Follow drinking gourd.”
No tracks to freedom
For I,
The ticket, cannot afford. They robbed me
Of inheritance,
Took claim of legacy.
Ripped from robes, left in rags,
No trace of history. Erased,
Replaced with self-flattering fabrication
Speak of white man’s burden.
Ego stroke, a master-bation. But my mind,
It works,
Though it can’t understand
Why I’ve lost so much
Because the back of my hand
Does not match the shade
Of skin on my palm.
And there in lies my sadness
They say I don’t belong.
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