With creaking boards upon our heads,
Our stomachs and rats chased after the same bread.
The very brave black self,
Was packed on deck like books on a shelf.
We couldn’t breathe, there was no air nor space;
No light, so we hardly moved open space,
And inside the belly of a vessel,
We were their precious vessel,
being sailed away,
Then to the highest bidder, to be sold away.

With our bodies bathed in salt,
The Black’s dream comes to a halt.
Even in our anguish and dying pains,
We served to nourish your gains,
We’re the reason your system is considered the best,
For you depended on our robustness to build your nest,
So why put out our courage before it spreads?
Tying us up in rusty threads?
Why has racism and stereotyping been our only honour,
And our deaths stirring up your sense of humour.
A rope at the neck has been our only way to freedom,
To a place to fantasize as a free kingdom,
A place of no lords nor slaves,
No Whites nor Blacks to be enslaved.Blacks are human too,
Bleeding red and never black.
No more...