we have not moved
as one
we have always noted
differences
it has been that way
always
we have not focused
on our similarities
our common bonds even
if they be chains and
locks and knives,
we should have been
more patient about
our shortcomings,
we were not born perfect
we all have defects,
now you have the guts
to ask why are we poor?
why are we scattered?
why are we oppressed?
we are worth the hundred
deaths that we are suffering.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem