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Ageism


I am an old scribe
From a long time,
With a restless mind
And Rastafari eyes.


I am the world you forget
(Or choose to erase),
The one you fear
In your sleep.


I am the memory
That you don't discuss,
Check my kind
I am your future.


I am your place of birth,
I am your good news,
Whose millennium are you?


I am not a star
Just a universe,
I am not just me
Still I am.


I am a way of life
With countless days,
I bring seasons
As I speak.


I am the I you debated
And I created
The hours before your time.


I am an old scribe,
From the first tribe,
Whose millennium are you?

Written by Benjamin Zephaniah

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Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge