phabranama

I’ll forgive you for hundreds of shattered dreams
I’ll forgive all the nights of fear
I’ll forgive you for causing my flesh to bruise
and for cries that you refused to hear

My warm brown beautiful skin
has roots with ties to Africa,
the strongness of my hands and back
are of my ancestor’s replica

Should I maintain my fixed composure
Should I go along and stay
Should I speak on acts that were unkind
and pick up and run away

My prayer for peace
will start at home
releasing the drama
and tensions that roam

He comes and finds
a soul near worn
a spirit severely twisted
with faith in mourn