Love for the Haunted Dreamers

Wed, 01/08/2014 - 00:33 -- Kasney

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They couldn't move, couldn't get up to even pee. Forced to lie in a pile of their own feces, gross I know but it's my history.They were carried, they were stolen, they were raped from their homeland over the sea. I hear their tortured cries, their hopeless screams in my dreams. Their souls haunt the backs of my eyelids and greet me every time I blink while I sit next to this boy and he speaks his self hatred to me. I bet he isn't even aware of how feeble he seems.. Never will I forget my history or the untold horror stories from lips that are buried in the sea. I am an African American Queen and I wear my brown skin oh so proudly. I praise my people oh so loudly because to succeed we have to overcome oh so much. We live in a society where it' far too common for us to be the butt of jokes. Now, our struggle is not a joke, when many of us are bearly managing to stay afloat in this system. It's this system that idly sits and watches us choke! And I don't want any apology, not like they ever have any sincerity behind them. I want much more, I want the disparity enveloping my people gone. I want right applied to all of the wrongs, and maybe if that's done, we can learn to love ourselves again.

Comments

Kasney

This poem was inspired because I just want so much more for my people, and the brutality of the journey of slave trade.

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