Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
In their blind bid
To become westernized,
They lost touch with reality
Created shadows of themselves
Despised their own intrinsic values
Embraced a twisted dress sense
Of fallen pants and revealed underpants
Idolized everything they're not
The good, the bad, the ugly
They birthed dual personalities
Picked up foreign accents
On ****** home-based passports
The American Dream, they call it,
As they wear winter jackets
In scorching African sun
All in the name of fashion
Trading our simple hues
For complex shades unknown
Bleaching skin and hair
Trading natural black for artificial white
Unaware the very gods they adore
Are tanning theirs to look darker
Insecurity drives them mad
Inferiority complex overtakes them
As they ban mother tongues in offsprings
Placing exotic tongues on pedestals
At the expense of our cultural future.

This is not an attempt at poetry
This is wake up call to Africa
Be bold, be proud, be black!
You are BEAUTIFUL!!
You are AFRICAN!!!*


© Raphael Uzor
 Mar 2016 Muyiwa Williams
Moarabi
I am tired, really tired...
I am tired of my talents not being recognized
I am tired of constantly proving myself
I am tired of being disabled

I am so tired...
Tired of not belonging
Tired of being invisible
Tired of being worthless

I am very, very tired...
I am tired of exchanging fake smiles
I am tired of meaningless conversations
I am tired of appearing dumb so as to get help

I am just tired...
Tired of being useless
Tired of failing
Tired of not dreaming

I am extremely tired...
I am tired of being apologetic
I am tired of being left out
I am tired of being ugly

What I am I saying?
What am I really tired of?
Why am I tired?

I am tired...
Tired of being speechless
Tired of being powerless
Tired of being afraid

In fact, I am broken down...
Broken down by being black
Broken down by being African
Broken down by being primitive
One of the most beautiful thing
I have ever seen
Is in your eyes
I've never had the luxury of material things,
but I'm starting to think that it was a blessing.
I find it easy to give up any material thing,
and do not find it the least bit depressing.
More than I, if someone needs this material thing,
come to me and I will give it to you.
For I hold no attachment to material things,
because I've only had but a few.
Life is beautiful,
Even in its ******* things.
The small bags of life-
The creases in the paper,
The untying bands of bracelet,
The crinkled edges of the dollar bill,
The thin dark gunk
Collected upon the penny,
The uneven water splashed upon
The bathroom sink,
The droplets upon the toothbrush,
The random foam of the fluoride rinse,
The fraying strands of gray and black
Athletic sock,
The clouded water
Lying below the ivory soap
In its dish-
These are unpleasant, yes,
But they remind us
That we are in this world,
That this is no false world
But a quite real one,
One which we can shape
Or help shape,
One that is worth living in,
Worth loving in,
A good world.

— The End —