This pictures is the inside reflections of how I feel. I must cry for to smile in this life’s environment would be disengenuos and false. Why were we ever created?

We only know how to cause hurt and pain to one another over class, race, land, money-greed, women cheat, men cheat, sexual perversion, human trafficking, murder, torture and yes, the power of religion. 

No! you cannot put a white Jesus in front of me and say he died for my sins. When it was this same white man’s name “Jesus” that graced the slave ships, navigated by men.

It was my people in the boughs of these Satan guided ships who died, starved chained together and existing in bodily excrements and brought to this heartless land, after they the European had succumb the native people of origin with lies, deceit, disease, murder and genocide. An indigenous people whom once lived in Nature’s Paradise until the European came.

We were  treated less than the beast of burden with such visiousness. I was not able to keep the babes that were born from my womb or my husband to love and protect me. Where is my Ancesteral lineage in this land? Where is my native tongue to speak in secrets? 

Why was my sprirtual connection yanked from mind, body and soul to take upon a deity foreign and foul tasting in my mouth? Now, I have learned to hate not only you, but myself and everything around me. No it was not in our gene pool to hate another, yet I regret we did not fight to the death to maintain our peoples freedom.

What is our purpose, are we here to learn something from our existense, our interaction as humans and our foot print on nature, if so… is it that we are less than the animal which kills for sustenance and uses the earth’s resources out of need?

Is it too late? To late to go back and regain the time when me and my people lived free, respected and cultivated the land to produce more food and shelter; to have  human families intact generation after generation and know of their uninterupted chronology. 

To see our animal brother and sisters live their natural lives as intended frolicking in the bush of the Serengetti, swimming the waters of the Nile and moving freeley un-abated by fences, poachers arrows and guns. 

Will there ever be such a time again?


One response to “WHY I MUST CRY

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