Things Never Said (Kalindra poem MY VOICE)

If you think my voice carries the hate of my ancestors…. You’re wrong. It doesn’t carry hate but the frustrations of the disappointed, the darkness that envelops the light at the end of the tunnel.

My voice is from the hollowness of the well we fell down deep in and clawed with our fingernails out of only the pushed back down again. Standing in the waste deep water knowing... knowing… knowing that if one day that the white god found a touch of blackness in his soul somebody would speak out. Somebody would say that the hate you thought you heard coming from us would nothing but the echo’s of your own white mind.

If you think my voice carries the hate of my ancestors…. You’re wrong. My ancestors never had a voice, they were too busy listening to you.

Things never said 2013