Plea, to My People
we are open pediment
missing our base,
struggling to discover where
we lost foundation
we are mirrored woes,
staring us in the face,
yet this countenance of sorrow
hasn’t united generations
we are two wrong turns
and two left shoes,
always stumbling upon ourselves,
still going in circles
but there comes a time
to wake up and move on,
remembering all the moments
when we were treated as sediment
left to drift off, or
left to burn, expected
to drown in our own undoing,
our truth
was in the way that we’d rise
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