And He Didn't Believe

Lumumba was black

And he didn't trust

The whores all powdered

With uranium dust.

Lumumba was black

And he didn't believe

The lies thieves shook

Through their "freedom" sieve.

Lumuba was black.

His blood was red-

And for being a man

They killed him dead.

They buried Lumumba

In an unmarked grave.

But he needs no marker-

For air is his grave.

Sun is his grave,

Moon is, stars are,

Space is his grave.

My heart's his grave

And it's marked there.

Tomorrow will mark

It everywhere.

~Langston Hughes, (1961)