The Mistake I’d Make Again
African apologies through factless history
I try to reconcile with history,
But I never wish to undo it’s work,
I’ve grown selfish and now I bathe in my ego,
I look at the unfortunate and feel sorrow for only a minute amount of time,
“I thank God I’m not them”, I cry behind their backs.
I defend the bias of religion as long as it’s on my side.
It’s how i’ve always been. Selfish.
I tell myself that I’m not them.
I’m not them.
I can’t be.
We look the same but that’s all it is.
We do not talk the same.
We do not act the same.
Sometimes we don’t walk the same.
And yet we are seen the same.
The trade made us who we are.
I was a producer and they were just commodities.
Mere goods and assets.
I stayed indoors worshipping my reflection while they fought the storm.
I could’ve helped them.
I could’ve fought for my brothers and sisters.
But I chose to adore myself through glass.
Forever bathing in my greed.
I know not much of what else I did then for memory never served me as well as they did,
But I do know that today, I fight the wrong people alongside the right ones.
I have become a hypocrite.
I should be at war with myself.
I was the one who forsook them to the men in pale cover.
I shout our (their) lives matter now; though, I was the one who first took their lives from them.
I was the true oppressor.
The truth remains still that I am selfish.
Although I try to reconcile with history, I still acknowledge time’s mercy towards me.
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