Bog Bodies (1965) by P V Glob and Black Boy by Richard Wright

I wrote this poem while in the middle of reading Wright's book and Bog Bodies by Glob, they had a common theme, which I didn't expect.

Gentle people, soft yielding young

By righteous mob

Violently killed, throats cut, hung

Naked and trussed

Pushed face down into peaty pools

By people so just

Secured with wood stakes cruel

Point and splinter

Pinning down the rising vampires

In midwinter

The shortest darkest days when fires

Flicker and leap

To bring life back into seeds sewn

In damp soil asleep

Victims frightened forced and alone

To horrid ritual

Of pagan times sprite witch and fairy

Until the dark Yule

Was replaced by Christmas oh so merry!

Black Boy Mr Wright

Puzzled confused hurt and hungry

Huge the fight

To live, so degraded denied unfree

Impossible to be

Printer postman washer waiter

Eyes down keep clear

You don’t belong not now or later

Then the great idea

Communism! at last a home for you

Equality exhilarates

But the cost! your own self true

It annihilates

No thought expression fun awhile

But sacrifice

Of person for party just one smile

Outcast the price

Beaten cursed killed with disgust

Body trussed

By the group so righteous and just