By no means is this my work, I’m highlighting this in celebration for Black History Month
Southern trees bear a strange fruit,
Blood on the leaves and blood at the root,
Black bodies swinging in the southern breeze,
Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees.
Pastoral scene of the gallant south,
The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth,
Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh,
Then the sudden smell of burning flesh.
Here is fruit for the crows to pluck,
For the rain to gather, for the wind to ****,
For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop,
Here is a strange and bitter crop.
This gives me chills every time. This references the mass lynchings of African Americans specifically during the early 1900s in the South. Such a beautiful and disturbing poem and I only thought it was fitting to share with all of you so we can appreciate African Americans, as well as poetry.