U.s.urp
We are the natives unborn,
the flag that is torn from green plains and yellow sun,
as the red gold of tribes undone.
We are bled blue before the air hits,
like bombs bursting with glares
as we fall down crystal stairs, looking up
with ain’t I stares.
What dreams defer and wait their time,
strapped down by boots that cannot climb?
What planting in the ground
can claim the life of us,
waving in derision and warrant such disgust?
Carving mountains into busts from scores
of wanderlust upon the shores,
the explorers' deplorable
shoring up of horrors,
stand the test of time.
About the Creator
Angelita Hampton
Angelita Hampton is a writer, visual artist, activist, sister, and daughter. She identifies as a Black feminist revolutionary inspired by and dedicated to social justice.
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