I am a woman born in Haiti.
I look to the sky and wonder why the forgetfulness of God.
my grandfather's grandmother died of so many violations of the standard and many mayoral lashes.
slave was the last thing I did was help him escape your man to join the fight for independence.
My grandmother died of typhoid while my grandfather was killed by the U.S. Army. Then came PapaDoc
fill the prisons of my relatives when her breasts are not bulletproof. My grandfather died in rebel dungeons littered with maimed body of torture and dignity intact.
My parents were shot by the Tonton Macoutes, and I got to see you bleed in the indifference of desolate streets in fear.
My uncle died of AIDS, both infected by giving blood to get a few miserable coins for food.
Two of my brothers have died in daily violence and one ate it sharks to try to pursue the American dream.
One of my sons was taken by the hungry, quench not the cookies ground to appease the appetite and now one of my daughters takes this blue wall that brought us the earthquake.
Tell me what do I do with all this solitude?
Tell me what do I do with all this anger?
urquiamaru workshop Felipe Garcia 
0 comments:
Post a Comment