I Carry


I carry my roots:
indigenous and Spanish
I am Xicana
A beautiful but toxic creation
My ancestors were seen as savages
which is ironic
because they were one with the earth and the waters
The pain.
The tears.
The cries.
The suffering
My ancestors faced monsters
Monsters from Spain
sick and cruel
and
vicious and insane
I carry the pain that my ancestors faced in my veins
I am brown and proud
I stand my ground
My roots will never be forgotten
not left rotten or ashamed
Roots need soil and water
and room to grow
to blossom and glow
So that the world will know
that we are still here without fear

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem