As I toss and turn dreading my alarm sound, I think.
If these were my ancestors, they'll be up in a blink.
See they couldn't get an education or they'd end up dead.
So how ungrateful is it for me not to want to get out of bed.
They fought for me to get an education, most of them bled.
That being said, I get up.
I thank God for this blessing.
Because my ancestors were slaves, who wished they could go missing.
The pain so strong it touched their soul.
Now because of them I greet my day with a drum roll.
This poem is about:
Guide that inspired this poem:
Login or register to post a comment.