Poem: Whitesplaining


So much to wrap my head around. Things you’d think we’d be past after 10,000 years. I guess not. I guess we know better other people’s lives.


Blind me
bind me
but please don’t
remind me
that my freedom
is bought
with the lives
of those who have not

The largess
I confess
I enjoy
has made a mess
I cannot measure
the blood spilled
or account for
the tongues stilled

Silenced by egos
caught in their death throes
desperate to find
redeeming heroes
Yet your truths
I refuse to consult
until it is time
to face the result


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