Copyright 2009
Written March 2002
The pain so deep,
I think I can weep,
from now until forever.
As I open my eyes,
revealing cries
of childhood in Africa.
Theirs and mine!
I had no idea.
It was not clear.
Protecting myself
with so much wealth?
Sure that all was well,
not noticing that we were living in hell!
House, garden, pool and tennis court,
all the luxuries that could be bought.
And we were taught,
that there are those with black skin
born in order for us to win.
It has all surfaced now!
How could we have lived like this?
People in bliss ?
Not knowing that within
the skin
is the Light of God,
even if it is dark.
Where was the light
of the White
who could deceive himself
so as not to see the truth?
The memory has surfaced
of me on her back.
No name -no identity!
She sang to me,
caressed me.
I bet she even blessed me.
Her breast full of yearning
for her own.
As my own mother,
let her, mother me.
I can smell the sweet scent.
Remember the soft silk
chocolate colored skin
of the woman
who saved me
from abandonment,
abandoning her own
so white women could
live in luxury.
She is the one that
caressed me,
fed me,
clothed me,
bathed me,
and saved me?.
and I was taught
that she was naught
because of her skin.
Did no one see her heart?
Mine breaks
as the truth makes
me look back at my roots
in Africa.