Black Love - Poem by Anele Komana
Until this day the portion of me cannot figure out what was going on in his mind. The agony, grief and resentment he was going through in his heart that he realised he has no reason left to be alive.
I reminisce those days he used to be so strong. But life sometimes can prove you so wrong. My old friend suffered in solitude. Lynched himself I picture suffocating before life escapes him.
The blame still lingers because I neglected him. We once used to hold hands to cross the streets. I let go and watched his life flashing in front of my own eyes.
The other portion of me understands, when you lose self-respect, self-image, you lose self-love. It was the system that exclude him from mankind, stole his identity, subconsciously fed him another man’s supremacy and though him to praise minority. Where was my poetry to revive that fire used to burn eternally?
I hope you can read between the lines. Every time you read these, these amorous lines his spirit resuscitates to open your eyes. Foolish of you to disregard the message delivered to those trapped in spoken lies. We are all prisoners to those who are on the mission to cause self-hatred and division.
Though we left Egypt we still slaves in our brains. Like though we seized the promise land our mental states are still locked in chains. The question is who to blame for what we became?
Today we are people who despise the color of our own skin, people who underestimate their own abilities. People who despise their reflections full of insecurities. We were once people who were meant to dominate, rule and replenish the earth. People who came from the same soil that Yeshua Ben Yoseph once walked in. The same soil Adam and Eve was formed in. The same holy ground Moses once stooped in.
It is only when we realised who we were in history, who we were yesterday, and who we are today that we would be able to restore black love.
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