Post Traumatic

Anger; frustration; melancholy.

Emotions that flush my mind as I think of the state of our community. 

How could people once so great be brought to such debauchery.  

Deprived of our own culture we disrespect ourselves and subjugate women.

I fight back tears thinking of all the lives that have been lost through centuries long oppression.

Why the majority who attain wealth turn their backs on our communities and why i cant seem to concoct  a solution that will unveil the greatness from which we came. 

Maybe then we will respect ourselves.

In frustration I often tell myself; i'm not from here; i'm not related to these people; they're not reflective of me nor I of them. I only fool myself. 

You see the configuration of pigments on my skin and kinks in my hair makes me what I am.

My blackness affirmed my people I acknowledge a hundred years later suffer from symptoms of oppression; low self esteem; even lower self determination.

We worship name brands and glorify entertainers. Try tell them the truth but they're not trying to hear that.

Fear that the realization may leave them petrified;

for years we've been tricked into thinking we're free.

Freedom; the right to self determination from which we've been restricted.  

The kept the minds and liberated  the bodies.

Mentally confined; we wonder around heedlessly.

Free range slaves; we roam within our confinements. 

Set us free!

Post Traumatic

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