I think of my kinfolk that died,
their joy and cheer of yesteryear!
Their memories I can't depart,
sealed forever in my heart!
My ancestors and family,
I see their their lucid faces.
In the middle of the night,
wee hours of the morning,
at dawn even twilight!
Binding me to stay free,
never to forget my destiny.
From a very young man I always looked up to my ancestors like you have. Remember playing checkers with my great-grandfather and sharing a card game with my great-grandmother. Always visiting great aunts and uncles after my grandparents died, listening for stories they might tell me about the way it was in their past.
For you it is very special, because so much of black history has been hidden by slaves not being considered human and not named in censuses. But the stories passed down our real and I'm glad that you are one in your lineage that is writing down what you know and passing it on to future generations. I applaud your acknowledgment of your family in this poem.
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For you it is very special, because so much of black history has been hidden by slaves not being considered human and not named in censuses. But the stories passed down our real and I'm glad that you are one in your lineage that is writing down what you know and passing it on to future generations. I applaud your acknowledgment of your family in this poem.
Ron