I forgot the color of colonialism
and the bags of genocide at the market
forgive me.
They changed your name
to become the masters of your roots
forgive me.
The blood of lost running through your veins
you felt my trauma and my pain.
forgive me.
We are yet to fight for liberation
while being born Black is still a curse
forgive me.
Lost is the cure to restore our dignity
slipped through our fingers, wallahi
they treated us with contempt
only
if you make it to heaven
tell the perpetrators
We have had enough!
benevolence fades away
our blood, robbed
your birth marked with
curses.
I am weary
dying to heal.
Don’t forget the color of colonialism
and the bags of genocide at the market
and to survive
to survive
survive.
© Jumoke Adeyanju