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Poetry

Foretelling

By November 5, 2018January 1st, 2021No Comments

On a black girls shoulders
Carry a lot of weight
That of elephants n rhinos
It’s hysterical the pressure it creates.

I
I am tired
But there is nowhere to sit at this table
I see the eyes looking back at me
Not seeing what I hold
There is more weight in my heart than on my shoulders
But none of it they can see

II
There’s no seat at this table
They are all filled
They tell me to sit on the floor and take the scraps of bureaucracy
But I cant take no more
My crown will fall if I sit on the ground
So I stand instead

III
Instead
There is a space
For me but I must create it
I must build a table for others like me
to an endless array of seats
For those who carry

IV
Who were once sitting on the ground
Waiting a turn
Like a dog waits for food that has fallen
No more
I say

Come here and sit
The time is ripe.