Black & Proud...
Chewing at his stick, his head held straight..
He was sat on a stool, right in front of his land,
Typical, of a pure bred African man...
Answering greetings, without turning his head..
And while above, the clouds gathered in earnest,
I watched him chew, with unbothered patience...
His features had the clear effects of time..
His face, a picture of contorted rage,
Doubtlessly caused, by the facets of old age...
For he was black, and I knew he was proud...
#IfWordsWereNudes
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