not a single toy in my hand by Wizzy Dorceus
One day you’re hiding in between the mattress praying for safety from the rebel group that was looking to kill daddy.
“Coup tet brule kya”
Cut heads and burn houses, the motto of our independence lead by Toussaint Louverture years ago was then my reality barging through the front door.
They’ll stop at nothing to get to him, machetes as hand they seek revenge
Under mommy’s belly I laid, not making a sound
In that mud brick house, in the rural village, on that day.
Four years old was too young to understand
Not a single toy in my hand
Walked up to the building where daddy made his plans
Day later on a “plane”;
Whatever that may be…
to a land where daddy said we would be safe and free
But little did we know that was the easy part…
We’re here now where do we start?
(C) Wizzy Dorceus (All Rights reserved)
(C) I, Too, Sing, America (Denison University)
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