sonnet of the black boy turned ghost

We give black boys so much grief for their bones
Rip the teeth from the gum and let them hang
What body of melanin does not drown?
Search for a life raft to rescue the skin,
the mouth, the eyes, the hair, the culture lost
Don’t love songs still end in a funeral?
We sing the songs about our children gone
The dust in an empty room left behind
The marching on stolen soil last so long
And yet those children never return home
We chant/and chant/and cry/and chant/and chant
and chant/and chant/and chant/and chant/and chant
and chant/and chant/and chant/and chant/and chant
And still the boy stays in the ground all bone

Header photograph © Nnebuifé Kwubéi.