Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge!
To Haiti,
My native home whispers my name.
When I was young I would disclaim.
Now pride overwhelms this undiscoverd fame.
Long ago I was ridiculed, ostracized and forced to shame.
Now I realize hypocrites will deride during your tribulation, but praise you
when your victory reigns.
But now I stand in vain,
remembering the dim regions whence my mothers came.
Do I still hear the ecstatic laughter of the dark children's games?
Can I still feel the burning pride of Haitian culture
arising Africa's flames?
It dwells within me still; this ruthless memory that can't be tamed.
I still have hope for this island of pandemonium and destitution which was tragically framed.
When America's cupidity, and unfair immigration systems forget you;
I stand fateful just the same.
When the world's misconception of your "uncivilized" values morally deprives you;
standing tall I will remain.
For when the struggle of Haiti is unbearable to overcome,
endurance is gained.
When the gods of Guinea have turned their ears from your creole cries of hoplessness,
with faith the Lord will ease your pain.
Even when the entire world has seemed to forget you,
Haiti, I still will
Proclaim!
Still Standing,
Keda Jeantine'
Written by Keda Jeantine'
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