the African in Me

My vibrant bold colours

scream

elegance power and riches

Emancipation

The red blood spilled

shed

stained

scared with many wounds

physically mentally

But still I rise

Liberation

see how the yellow stripes

shine

Bright as the sun

pure as gold

warm

unharmed

sacred

No currency can equal to it

Black

Unlike the darkness that fills

the earth at night

My skin glows

Despite carrying the wounds

of the past

the piercing glares

My head is held high

As if I’m a warrior

You can’t tell me otherwise

Firmly stand my ground

If the green land could talk

I am sure its stories would

last a lifetime

Triangle of peace

Pure and white

Star of hope

One nation united

That is all I ever wanted

Integration

Protected by the

stone carved bird

Gold in colour

matching my stripes

That was then

bold and bright

a thing of the past

The guy

with the horn rimmed glasses

takes charge

His roar

as loud as a lion

face like a cartoon character

Shameless

carelessly he torments me

The voice of my stripes on mute

powerless

Do you know who I am?

History speaks of me

as a fairytale turned rusty

The one that once was

But who is to blame?

I wait for the day

my vibrant colours can proclaim

ex-manus-capere

©

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One thought on “the African in Me

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