When I was born
It should have been in Eurasia, way into the belly of China
To see It’s walls that I hear stretches as far as eyes can see
Even Chinese calligraphy too interests me
But it was my birth and my choice
So I choose Africa
Here there are bricks and Sun enough
To build a city of walls

I should have been born in America
That when I grow
I will be handed a whip, a cowboy hat
And conferred the title of “Slave Master”
But when I last toured the rivers of Mississippi
The only beautiful scene that caught my sight
Was a black boy rinsing his anus upstream

So I choose Africa:
Here, you rinse your anus, I rinse mine
But watch out, our Grandchildren may be drunk with anus water

No, Australia was never in my menu
But Antarctica?
I closely mistook the name for Africa.
When you are still to born
The name is pronounced Antarcticaish:
“A place of dry and discomfort”

Skin of green grass,
Hair strands of irokos,
Sweats of oceans and seas
Muscles of iron and brass
The shape of an endowed lass.

Hear me,
On the shoulders of Africa I stand
Proclaiming to the hills and plains abound
“I am in heart and in soul an African”

Written by: Nick Nazz Obodokasi Agbor

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  1. LegendaryCJN

     /  June 30, 2014

    Pure Afrocentric
    I like, I like, I like!
    Well done.



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