Poetry of Pain
You Will Always Be My Mother
No matter what label is in fashion, I will always be a child of Africa.

I will not break away. No matter what distractors say. She is my mother and my past. My love for her will forever last.
Divisive words spread contention. Her name they say we should not mention. Although I am her estranged progeny, I feel her roots deep within me.
I do not heed the call to make her null, and start my history from the slave ship’s hull. The wonderful stories of her children’s reigns, make me proud to share their blood in my veins.
I am descended from kings and queens, not just folks of modest means. I wish she could sue for character defamation. She must be weeping because of the constant assassination.
Watching her children align with mongers of hate, makes me question our collective future and fate. As I stand in the mirror, I admire her geography. So many of her nations are a part of me.
Nigeria, Cameroon, Senegal, Mbuti, all blend together in symbiotic harmony. Ghana, Benin & Togo, Ivory Coast, no nation competing to reflect in me most.
Western and Eastern Bantu and Congo, meld together to create this Cocoa.
I am not ashamed of my ancestors. I thought about the journey of my ancestors during the African Diaspora and I composed a short song prayer my ancestors might have uttered during their travels across the ocean.






