Momma Jamaica

Skies blue
Sun shining
Take me back to the land
Where my fathers come from


Let me speak the language
And listen to the music
Give me more of the food
That my ancestors once knew


I wear my colours--red, green, gold, and black--
With such a pride
That I will never hide


I await the day
I go back to my father's place
To see the things he saw
And to experience things beyond my dreans


One day, I'll be going home
And into the arms of
Sweet Momma Jamaica

This poem is about: 
My family


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