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Three Six Five (365)

Trees don’t ask to be born,
For our books, they end up torn.
For our looks, we break life bonds.
What if we took time like trees?
What if we let winds blow free?
What if I could at least,
Quiet the voice that smudges from within?

Fix everyone else — but for me.
Even if it means flyin’ to a new coun — try
How many have died at sea?
How many who look jus’ like me?
Round the sun, too young to have any sons — any seed!
How can you see my soul when color is all you s(p)ee(k)?

Hive minds, they say, that’s why we mark time.
That’s why we repeat history and why his story
Is pasted as mine.
I come from Cameroon, he’s a different colored bee,
A different shade of black; different diamonds coasting the same coal mine.

Three six five, we’re still alive.
Tall like the trees history’s winds blew South.
Fixing everyone starts with me — now.
There’s no way to win if I stay milking the hive cow(ard).

Written by

Cameroonian writer and video creator. Featured in LEVEL and P.S. I Love You. I write about building relationships and personal transformation.

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