“History, despite its wrenching pain cannot be unlived,
but if faced with courage need not be lived again.”
― Maya Angelou
I took a giant step backwards today
into my past, I thought I had left it behind.
I remembered the sting, the smart of rejection,
of hatred, of shame;
I heard it calling my name
in my dead ascendants voice,
calling from far away,
calling me back to pain
of dying in agony.
The pain I hid from,
never wanted to feel again,
I was brought back to
that place today.
I wanted to scream out,
but my words fell lame,
my mouth fell open in vain.
I couldn't believe I felt this way,
so unmoved, so unable to react;
I was immobilized in reliving this pain.
It held me once again like before
when I was weak, so did I
The whole world seemed there
with me, in the past, in that place,
stepping back in tandem so we all did,
silently falling from God's grace.
We, the survivors must tell the children,
must shout, 'Don't go back there, to that place,
it is grim and doesn't care, it will only
forget you there to trap you
in History's snare'.
We cannot go back across
a burning bridge without a care,
'Look ahead', I say, 'Try to dare'.
For the worst fate belies
the ones left behind
who cannot move ahead or rise
to face our ascendants
in our own eyes.