by Lawrence S. Pertillar
But the wounds remain revealed.
After centuries the same pain is felt.
And their long lasting affects.
So many have kept the minds connected,
To the seeking of approval.
And permission given,
As to how their lives should be lived.
Within limits to grant.
Hoping not to offend the disenchanted.
Even though mentally oppressed,
By what their ancestors accepted.
Many remain with those times to relive.
Unable to leave behind in their minds,
What has gone to move on.
Without having others reminded.
Left to be offended and upset...
Are the ones protesting,
The absence of equality wished.
But can not seem to get.
Or opportunities that others have,
For them that seem to be limited.
Time is found,
To portray themselves as victims.
Time is found,
To disrespect themselves...
As a choice to prove it done to do.
While others choosing to accept,
Their identities to protect to keep precious...
Refuse to keep beliefs,
That their wishes, dreams, wants and needs...
Is dependent upon,
Who decides it.
Or whose approval is sought.
And who is kept pleased by listening,
To complaints on a daily basis...
From those feeling disenfranchised,
Every day of their lives to criticize...
The ones they have come to despise,
Refusing to become victimized.
Or labelled on their backs to perform tasks,
To think they should stay...
Fighting stereotypes to depict them...
In a degrading way.
Although if paid appropriately...
All is forgiven until it is forgotten,
Who finds it convenient...
To mimic for fun the suffering done,
At the expense of 'whose' ancestors.
Just to incite what was done to whom,
Centuries removed to exploit a kept ignorance.