Armed with a truthbrush
And a few mythbusters
From zanzibar,
I scoured my soul
Like I'd never done before

Defying delusions
Of grandeur
Guarding doors shackled
And sealed
With cultural stereotape

I broke through the locks
And the shock
Of four centuries
Consumed me

The stench of humanity
Gone wild
Was palpable
Like cotton and gold

But the world was neither
Pitiless nor blind
To the plight
Of the slave's child

And the chiren
Of her *****
Would unite in the fight
To repair wounds
20 generations deep

Making the scars
Of imperious nations
Easier to bear

~ P
(#TheScarsofImperiousNations)
4/21/2014