Got to keep movin,

Corona on my trail

Got to keep movin

Corona on my trail

Got to keep my mask on

Lord

Got to keep my mask on

to keep the corona away

Got to keep my mask on

to keep the corona away

Ain’t no cure but the vaccine

Ain’t no cure but the vaccine

To keep the corona away

--

--

Untitled poem

I carry my myths with me,
in a satchel slung across my shoulder,

Held tightly with a cord

To hold them together-

So no one can see the cracks forming inside

See the tears from all the strain stain my eyes

These myths are heavy

Heavy, Heavy

On the eyes

Not sure if I have enough room inside

--

--

I feel despair

A quiet despair

Haunted by the dreams of a 400 year old nightmare

I cannot sleep,

I cannot breath,

I cannot see beyond the shadows in the trees

The ancestors cry from their eternal slumber

Awakened by the quiet thunder

Screaming

Will we ever be free?

Lord!

Will-

we-

ever-

be-

Free?

--

--

Rodney Sam

Writer and artist with musings on Art, history, genealogy, culture,the humanities with short stories and poems