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#My_Afrikan_Yesterday
Time and again, i heard it being sang, like a reminder, it hang low on my neck, ding! dong! Even at the back of my brain. With every movement i made, reminded again and again, like scabs tht just never wanna dry, this smell of fresh pain like blood on my nostrils...

my Afrikan identity, that whites wrecked with bullets and stains of blood...

my Afrikan true ancestors drowned through my sorrows, crying a loud and painful cry, i could feel their rubble in my veins boiling of detest and aggrivation, that yesterday when they were compromised and persicuted for being Afrikan. I wanted to shout "i'm Afrkan" but the chains on my human rights were way too heavy to lend me an ear. I sighed concurently but my breath couldn't settle well on my chest, distracted by too much anger filled on my chest...

The world outside looked pale and out, children calling on lifeless bodies of the parents, snatched of their presence, not just their souls but their stability in life. Robbed off their happiness and parent figure. Forced and shoved into orphanage, denied a better life, placing chastity belts to their human will. Better dead than declared invalid by reppresion and boxed to live. My Afrikan yesterday
#Poetic_Ink

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