Poem

Rooted

I am no longer lying to myself 

content to sit at a table 

built by the bones of 

histories we buried 

with blind eyes. 

Ignoring voices in pain

their aches muted 

even as ours yearned

to howl with agony 

the truth we hid from. 

I stood in place scared to move

and watch you fight the battles

that would lead to my ascension. 

I grow my roots

feeding off the blood of your loss

deluding myself that shelter

can come from the homes 

built from stolen promises.

© Manivillie Kanagasabapathy

AN: International Day for the Elimination of Racism (March 21)

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