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Dont be alarmed and feel free to call the police once you read this poem.
I had to kill two people to get here. I had to kill the person I was and the person I thought I would. The person I was was a Haitian growing up in the United States where we felt racism from blacks that were already here.
I can only imagine the thoughts before we arrived. We must have thought they were clearing a path for our arrival when actually they were building more hedges and obstacles for us to climb over.
A lot of us didnt make it. Some of us are still mentally broken. Scarred and beaten.
This would seem like a recipe for hatred. And that is the second person that I had to kill.
The only true weapon that would help me overcome, achieve, believe, prosper, stand and deliver was love. To remove the quiver from my voice and replace it with a tremble. To release the death from me and fill me with an ever expanding knowledge of what it is to love and to be loved.
So to the world I only have one message. You are loved and we are here to stay. Love us too.
