Black & Proud... Poetry

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Image by Leroy Skalstad from Pixabay


I watched him spit at a steady rate,
Chewing at his stick, his head held straight..
He was sat on a stool, right in front of his land,
Typical, of a pure bred African man...

He had on just a garment, coloured red,
Answering greetings, without turning his head..
And while above, the clouds gathered in earnest,
I watched him chew, with unbothered patience...

I knew he had come a very long mile,
His features had the clear effects of time..
His face, a picture of contorted rage,
Doubtlessly caused, by the facets of old age...

But then he had no fear for the coming clouds,
For he was black, and I knew he was proud...

#SladenSpeaks
#IfWordsWereNudes


Thanks for stopping by...

Cheers!


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8 comments
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But then he had no fear for the coming clouds,
For he was black, and I knew he was proud

What does it mean? Are africans not afraid of rain?

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Hi dear,

It is not to be taken literally... It is sort of a metaphorical line... Like he was not really bothered by whatever dark clouds which were gathering in his life at that point...

Though, I doubt anyone is really afraid of rain though... Lol, we just sometimes don't want to get wet.

Thanks for stopping by.

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Ahaaan! I understood now. Lol. Because English isn't my first language, I sometimes come accross with such difficulties in understanding. Thanks for the elboration

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(Edited)

Hi dear,

It is not to be taken literally... It is sort of a metaphorical line... Like he was not really bothered by whatever dark clouds which were gathering in his life at that point...

Though, I doubt anyone is really afraid of rain though... Lol, we just sometimes don't want to get wet.

Thanks for stopping by.

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A beautiful poem, short but full of pride.

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Thanks friend. I appreciate the kind words.