Friday, February 26, 2010

Imagine (A poem suitable for Black History Month)

I thought I'd share a poem I wrote several years ago. Feel free to share your thoughts.

Imagine

Imagine if the odds were against you at conception, simply because of the color of your skin.
Imagine if you had to fight a battle, but no one really expected you to win.
Imagine being given second hand tools and asked to carve your future, without fully understanding your past.
Imagine if you deserved first place, but always had to settle for last.
Imagine being called to complete an ambiguous task and learning that others faltered in their quest.
Imagine if you gave your all, but could never be more than second best.
Imagine inheriting the responsibility of ancestors, who fought to secure your place.
Imagine what it’s like to be born indebted to your entire race.
Imagine looking for your history, but not finding it in the book you’re required to read.
Imagine if your lineage were a mystery that you had to solve in order to succeed.
Imagine being told you could soar, but learning you could only go so far.
Imagine if you exceeded every expectation, but someone always raised the bar.
Imagine being taken from your country, to a place where the customs are not your own.
Imagine giving away all that you’ve worked for, and never reaping what you’ve sown.
Imagine having intelligence beyond measure but being denied the chance to grow.
Imagine caring for your enemy; imagine being raped by your foe.
Imagine giving birth to children and being forced to relinquish parental rights.
Imagine starting a revolution only to find you couldn’t win the fight.
Imagine if you mastered your native language, but were forced to speak in another tongue.
Imagine daily torture and mental anguish; imagine being lashed until you’re numb.
Imagine if you could be killed just for reading, because education was not allowed.
Imagine if you were used for breeding, or sold to the highest bidder in the crowd.
Imagine if you prepared a feast for others, but had to make your meal with the scraps they gave.
Imagine if the Queen of the Earth was your mother, but you had to live and die a slave.
Imagine risking everything, just for the chance to be free.
Now imagine, just imagine, what change means to me.

Melanie Geddes, written February, 2003