LIFE-RICA

L.I.F.E ; I remove the E and add the word RICA.

LIFRICA, because I'm going to talk about, life in Africa.

the life of an African, the perception of unAfricans,

the love from non-Africans., as a reflection and

as motivation; the far the dream has lived,

the firm we have believed, just like an invention,

with undevoured devout conviction, redrawn omissions, 

abhorred emissions, with our own priced possessions...

.. which are the eyes. The eyes that see,

beyond the lies, overseas.. But to be or not to be,

is the question that oversees, the drive that supersedes,

the spirit that intercedes, the hunger that antecedes, before us,

as we proceed and we battle, we fight our fears,

that has culminated over the years, subdued by superiors,

who made us inferiors.. the tears, we cried.. the tears, we tore.

I call them inglorious. A movie adds "bastards" to the name,

but who am I to judge them? They judged us. 

They chewed on us, perhaps because the skin, chocolaty,

they FUDGEd us. I'm bitter with no pain and the taste is sour.

I fear my tears like them because they trickle, when shower

is what.. I want them to. The acres of land, education and pride,

I want them too. They took us for a ride but the single things they snatched from us,

I want them, two. It's ridiculous we know it. Made fools, then tools, then taken

for granted. When just when they saw you, all that's yours they took it for 

wanted. 

But then I now live in the present.. and as of present as it claims,

the past is passed, in precise Italiano, we are pasta.. We might forget but I'll preach it,

(I know I should have said Pastor) though the thought is, we're past that.

A gift of present does not dwell in the past.. it's apart. A whole new part.

A gift of reason, swells in my heart. Pride. That we have indeed overcome..

The dust is settling, the coughing subsiding.

The best feet are being put forward.

The past is being erased, not in memory but in its bitterness,

as she progresses. She moves on. Bruised and wounded but strong with grace,

like a tigress in the woods, in pursuit of happiness.

The will to succeed like a smith on his metals, moulding the best.

She yields and invests.. A little help from the rest, the rest which was pest,
has pulled her up, back to her feet.

And I officially deem her fit, to fight for survival, 
to experience her own revival,

and above all.. 
keep the pace, keep the peace, 
win the race and be the *reece. 

Part of a poem I did spoken word on.. Most of it has been edited.

*as from the Urban Dictionary, meaning: best, superior, ideal or perfect.