We Are A Story

Photo Credit: twitter.com/africanarchives

It’s not a story until it’s told
Because then we would have to
have a conversation
This elephant is too black
in this room of white privilege
Have you seen black brightness?
That greatness! It is breaking and entering
into the eyes of the supremacist
So he has to defend himself
He is threatened
He has to defend himself
Trigger-happiness is but a symptom
But let us pretend to cure it like it’s the disease
Let us talk about gun control
We can talk about that
There is melanin guilt there
Let’s have that conversation
About how they are weeds
So all we can do is to smoke ‘em
In our new uniform
Of legitimate prejudice
We are just doing what the system enables us to do
Shut them up
It is not a story until it is told

But we are our own story
We are told everyday
With the silence of the empowered
With the apathy of the law
With the exploitation of our corrupt
We are still here
In this room
Full of white privilege
And the echo of our not-enough-wept tears
Resounds in the castles of Elmina and Cape Coast
On the streets of Birmingham and Baton Rouge
Through the melodies of Masekela and the rhymes of Tupac
By the words of Hughes and Angelou
In the spirit of Nkrumah and MLK
And we are still marching on
And we are still tripping over one another
And we are still bleeding
Still growing
Still becoming
Still learning
Stil dying
But we are still fighting
Because we are fire
Pretend we are not here
While you work out our damnation
Without fear and trembling
We are still told
We are still a story
More than a people
More than a journey
We are a story


Published by: Akyempo

i met the Priest...i realised that though society seems to respect the baker and despise the shepherd, the baker is not happy despite his stability and the shepherd is free to pursue the pyramids, because he is a dreamer; and one day he will meet Fatima. I am the boy; the shepherd.

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