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This poem opens the story of my black skin. It’s a story of sorrow, hardships, slavery and thousands of years of slavery, racism and pain.

Poem: My Black skin


My black skin

Holds no hate

Only tears

Under the fabric of melanin

Forever persecuted

For the simple reason of its blackness

Yet, this blackness

Does not hold darkness

Or powerful spells of black magic

This blackness

Does not hide hatred

Only scars

From thousands of years of slavery

Many years of colonialism and apartheid

And many more years of racism

This blackness

Soot from ancient volcanoes

On the Serengeti plains

Mud from riverbeds

Of the great African rivers

Medicine from the black coat

Of beetles and pumas

This blackness

A sacred ancient art

On the walls of ancient caves

A canvas of broken tears

Smeared on the blackboard of life


Oozing with black light

This blackness

Is not a wall

To paste your hatred

To pour your acid

To be mutilated

This blackness

A rare canvas

To hold

To paint the stars

See the path of light

This blackness

A well

Full of hope


And forgiveness

This blackness

Is not savagery

This blackness

Symbol of the spirit of Africa



Kenneth Maswabi









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