MY BROTHER DOESN'T KNOW ME

I am proud to be African,

I am proud to be black,

We are strong, We are no longer slaves,

We are no longer pitiful.

We are proud to be black!

We have been brothers since the beginning of time,

We have been cousins since the start of the 19th Century.

...So my brother no longer knows me.

It's not that he owes me,

It's just that he disowns me,

Through the lack of actions thereof that he shows me.

Our kind is rooted deep in history,

But he reacts ever so slowly to the problems that are before me.

Sorry, i know that you have enough trouble in your house,

The torture you have endured in your own house is appalling,

Truly, our kind have faced and continue to face the worst brutality.

That is why i was of the view that we stick together,

In order to solve the problems in both houses,

In order to curb the habit of being abused spouses.

The power that we would wield together would be immense,

The power of Wakanda would be intense....................

..........These dreams have stayed locked and decaying in the dream closet,

Our hope is quickly dwindling down the hopeless faucet.

I open up my eyes and you have been added as a slave master to the docket.

You had a picture of us but you forever hid it in your pocket...

That's what i mean to you,

A distant cousin in a distant memory.

When all the fingers point you join in with distinct allegory.... 

I am African, 

I am Black,

We are Black...

But we are not brothers.

A Poem by Bruno Edgard