History on My Mind

I carry history with me.
I heave it on my shoulders
and show it to the world.

The world covers its eyes:
it’s not that serious.
I stop, frozen
by the incomprehension.
My shoulders start to droop.

I thought I had already explained this.
I thought you understood.
Why now are my hands being shoved away?

This is my life.
This is my burden.
I thought you understood.

Why do you say my blood is irrelevant?
Is my blood not just as red as yours?
I thought you said we were the same.

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2 thoughts on “History on My Mind”

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