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COTTON, the bane of my ancestors

I REMINISCE, IT IS REMISS

By Novel AllenPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
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MAYA ANGELOU

I STOOD BENEATH THE IMPOSSIBLY TALL COTTON TREES AND CHANNELLED; acknowledged; MY ANCESTORS.

Cotton tree

Stolen from the African Continent, where we were royalty, royal and proud

Brought to an unconscionable reality of a civilization wholly uncivilized

Herded and shackled, drowned, diseased and maimed.

Whipped, lacerated, tortured, scorned for the color of their skin, hanged, raped, murdered.......

Belittled.

I breathed their pain. I felt anger.

COTTON: "GENUS GOSSYPIUM"

"Primarily composed of cellulose, an insoluble organic compound crucial to plant structure, and is a soft and fluffy material."

I wear cotton proudly.

My ancestors bled for it, died for it.

Overcame for it.

Rose because of it.

Became free from it.

I stand often beneath the tall cotton trees

Of my reflective nature walks

My imagination wanders to the cotton fields

Never were they this tall

They were waist high

I say with a sigh

Cotton is strewn on the ground

Taunting me

Windblown cotton

I laugh out loud

"Ha, Ha Ha, Whoo, yes."

"We beat you."

"We did, right?."

Some days I wonder.

I pick cotton up

Twirl it between my fingers

Innocent cotton.

Civilization, so civilized

Keeps reverting, bending, twisting

The inferiority, the superiority

Our own brothers sold us in Africa

Our own brothers, (hopefully not sisters)

Still wage tribal war against each other

Maiming and killing.

Have we progressed or regressed?.

People as a whole

We always seem to be going

Down the rabbit hole

Our heads pop up

There is the hammer

sending us down again.

NOTHING CHANGES

JOY

SORROW

HURT

PAIN

ANGER

HAPPINESS

A recurring cycle

Do with it what you will.

Try happy.

Beat the cycle.

Pic by Yarenci-HDZ, - Unspalsh

Here is to my strong, resilient, proud, brave and fearless brothers and sisters past and present.

THE STRUGGLE CONTINUES. ALUTA CONTINUA.

Transcending race, color or creed.

Transcending assumptions, illusions and beliefs

Transcending this earthly plane

Ever evolving.

Ever growing.

N.A. 7/2/21

inspirational
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About the Creator

Novel Allen

Every new day is a blank slate. Write something new.

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