HistoryA Poem by IsimbabiWe all love history when it’s written in blood with a pen dipped in the neck of a man written in cursive- ink red or dark, We’re all headless- walking around, Not sure whether to hold the book or the gun, We pick up the pen, Our natural proclivity until we discern, Perceiving the end, yet, our books are not being read, Because the attention is to the men in a land that isn’t
theirs fighting a war that isn’t right, is that right? We live a story where tribes are liberated from their lands,
Political systems crumbling oppression, from the bigger nations, burning
books and dropping bombs, They won’t stop. They can’t stop. I don’t need to be liberated from
my house, I’m not trapped, I’m not bonded, I’m not held up in my basement I could leave if I wanted, The phrase that they shouted. © 2022 Isimbabi
Author's Note
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StatsAuthorIsimbabiNigeriaAboutA collection of the writings that I'd allow anyone see. I don't know if I'm a creative writer or even a good one but I'm going to keep on, because... what could I loose more..Writing
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