Am I left out of your history,
your literature,
your art,
and your music curriculum…
Because you feel I have nothing to say?
Or is it that you’re afraid I’d discredit you…
And expose your lie?
See, then your existence would be that of which you’ve projected on I
Fear not
For my history need not be written, to be told
For my history is far too expansive
For the mere binding of a book to hold
It Precedes
Foreshadows
And Usurps yours
Despite your continued effort to exclude me
From the years that do unfold
My history continues to be told