Black Growing

#poetry #writers #africanliterature

I never knew how commonly common

How common was I

Dusty, cracked gravel roads

Bringing about my playful imagination

Coupled with tiny rocks stomping

Softly through my tales

May I be one with them

As dusty as we want to

Growing, growing, growing

Unaware of how poor

How grey, how black

Black growing,

Seemingly to the others poor

Little would they ever know

How richly happy we really were

Now that we’ve grown black

Rich even to them

But poor now that we lack

That which we had

Took it for granted while black growing

How happy we were

...together.