Diasporan Blues

Diasporan Blues

Another immigrant
washing away leftovers from plates
He might have flown over the seas
or she, across the harsh desert
Over and across, don’t matter
Tall fences blocking aliens away
Long stretched out rivers.

We are all the same,
uniquely shaded for the sun
We of the gun-shaped origins,
eyes all crisp with dimly lit hope
Look into these voided pupils
Past these migrated dreams
Through these walls of memories
where our dead loved ones lay still
There, we of the African beginnings are stricken to forever hymn
an ancestral continental song called
“another day to build and create.”



3 thoughts on “Diasporan Blues” by Uyiosa (@wordsfromuyi)

  1. this seem to have been thought from a world before
    but now and the near we work on the before.

  2. You plucked a heart string or two with this one @wordsfromuyi . Apt.

  3. The thing is, the grass on the other side of the fence, don’t always turn out to be greener.

    But the fact is the place where one has not been to will always entice him…it’s natural

    Nice write @wordsfromuyi

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