I never really felt alive
Until I watched Olivia Pope do it
She stood in the sun

From the very core of my being,
to the very last strand of my mane
I am African

Yes, from Africa
Not the Africa of starving children
Certainly not the Africa of women deprived of voting rights
nor the adoption hub of the rich and famous
that is your Africa, not ours.

Our Africa
yes, our Africa
Is a developing child, constantly, incessantly ridiculed,
reminded of its inability to walk,
but see how it crawls towards the mark,
feel the steady beat of its hurting heart,
Isn't that a sign of vitality?
Isn't that the very beat that keeps mother earth alive?

Yes I am African from Africa
The Africa the world wont tell you about
The Africa that sheds a tear everyday and says;
" dear  world, see  me  for  who  i  am,
no,  not  through  t­he  lens  of  a  misguided  camera,
see  me  through  the  lens..
of  a  telescope"

"I planted peaches and apples
but  ate only the seeds...i mean..the poison,
gladly tossing the fruit away"

silently
as in introspection
i look at all the poison growing around me
not far away is my little watering can
the one with which i had happily watered all the poison
and now..and now it is in full bloom

poison was the words that proceeded out of his mouth
every statement a measure of cyanide
calculated cunningly for everyday of my existence
and willingly i drank from my cup

slowly slowly
he rolls his tongue and spews forth the venom,
the venom that would be the end of me
"focus focus" my mind screams
but i can't
i cant hold on to the very dreams that held me together in days bygone

how dare you accuse yourself of such ?
Did you tell him to lace the compliments with arsenic?
questions..questions..questions
but no answers
Im gone