[New Post: Old Fave Poems: My Africanisms]

my Africanisms by Yvette Adams

Who are you to judge and define my Africanness?

My skin ranges in colour- light as day and dark as the night.

The texture of my hair has its own agenda- from bone straight to a curl that is so tight.

My heritage, so rich and full of colour.

Yet, so much shame to call you Africa, ‘my mother’.

For you see, mother, my brothers and sisters of this land do not see me as sibling.

Rather, I am to them a stranger, a nobody who cannot offer a thing.

If only, they could see that my soul bleeds to compensate for lack of my blackness and being judged on my whiteness.

 Do not forget me in your struggle, because my brother- it is our struggle.

 My identity calls for a revolution- but respect my history, my pain, my struggle to be seen, by you brother-as a proud African.

Come on, talk to me- what did you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s