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Not A Single Toy In My Hand

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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