Never Do Like You

  

I will never do like you do

Because you will never do

Like I do

I spent my days

Over empty pages

Pouring out my emotions

Trying to live my life

Through the different stages

You will never be

Like me

Because there are certain things

You will never see

You will never know

what`s happening inside

I put on another face

Trying to hide

Am I less of a man?

I don`t understand

Why am I being pushed aside

To not live my life

In a normal society

But you will never do

Like I do

I walk these streets

Like a shadow

Trying to fit in behind another

I don`t have a world for myself

Because I’ve been living

In the world

Of someone else

But now I know

I will never do

Like you do

Not at all

Because when these pages

Are filled

I put the writing on the wall

For all to see

Because I’m tired

Of hiding in the shadows

So I came out in the light

To share my story

With the whole world

© Leon Pryce

                 Excerpt from my book “Immortalized Through Poetry”

Please continue to support my work by visiting my author page at: www.ctupublishinggroup.com/leon-pryce-.html

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Black In Time

Let`s go black in time
Come with me black to history
Black to the mother land
Where we rightfully belong
Black in time before the Europeans
Tried to whitewash our
Skins and minds
Black to the kingdom and ancestry
Black, way black before slavery

Black am I
Not just the color of my skin
The pupil of my eyes or the hair on my head
But black at heart, black in my thinking
And black in my thoughts

Black in time
Black my story, every sentence, every line
Black every rhythm and every rhyme
Black the days on their slave ships
Heading across the ocean lines
Black the shackles and the chains
Black the whips that cut our veins
Black the blood that stained the lands
Black the heart of every whiteman
Black the husbands and the wives
Black the circumstances which changed our lives
Black the mother and the father
Black the separation from each other

Black, black, black, black
Black the struggles and the fights
Black the system which took away
our rights
Black the midnights we tried to make
our run
Black the rope on the tree that hung the ones
Who wish to be free

Black, black, black, black
Let`s go black and turn the world around
Let`s take black our civilization
Every continent and every nation
Let`s take black the white man`s dominion
Let`s take black our rightful rulership
No more subjection under
The whiteman`s dictatorship
Let`s black out the pages
of the white man`s days
And attribute the praises
to the black liberal race

Black my eyes and the things they see
Black the vision of those who preceded me
Black Marcus, Selassie and Mandela
Black Obama and the Christ
Black the life I live because of their sacrifice


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My Days In Poverty

I never forget my days

In poverty

I never forget

The Dry bulla and the bread

The butter-pan with

Sugar and water

That never left my head

I never forget

The dumpling and butter

Playing in dirty water running from the gutter

Or even bathing in the rain

That used to be my

Only shower

I never forget 

going to school

It was only

Fried dumplings and bag juice

A little exercise book and a piece of pencil

In my knapsack that was

 on my back.

Sometimes I felt so blue, because my grandmother

Could not afford a pair of shoes

Those were my days

In poverty

So there`s no need for anyone to envy me

When you see me acting with pride and dignity

Most of my life growing up

I had no TV

But if I go to my

Neighbor`s house

My grandmother would

Beat me.

Whenever I looked on

My feet, I can`t help

But smile

Because they did some

Very hard work

Growing up as a child

My grandmother could not afford bus fare

So wherever we`re going

We had to make up our minds

To walk a few long miles

Those were the days

But there`s a very important role

That poverty played:

I have learnt a lot, and

It taught me

How to appreciate life in good and bad days

I`m still not rich, but I’ve come a long way

I have accomplished many things

In my life today

I never forget

Porridge without milk or bush tea without sugar

At nights when time is hot

The wind outside was all we got

I never forget 

Going to church

Only a few coins

My grandmother could bring

Because she could not find enough to pay her tithing

When church was through, the elders and deacons

Would overlook you and shake the hands

Of those who are richer

Than you

I never forget

Because all those things are

A part of me

Night and day I used to pray

For the heavenly father

To rescue us

From the grips of poverty

I was never bound for destruction

Because deep down I knew

My life was under construction