Written by C Hues
September 22, 2022
The old folks say we got it made Every second we seem to suffer some slight Slaves denied the right to read and write And as the tree grows—the memories fade But the truth is that we still endure Our ancestors were rich and poor Indigenous, whites, and blacks Our blood drew blood straight from our backs Not all Ancestors pass on genes But do they tie us to our fate? Are we simply the branches seen And they the roots we can’t relate? An Ancestor is family—they protect and provide Family who came before And anyone can give DNA before they’ve died But an Ancestor is Pride