They packed bodies in ships like cargo and trade, Human lives reduced to a number and grade.
Names stripped away, replaced with a price, History written in profit… paid for with lives.
Blood in the water, prayers in the night, Mothers held children that faded from sight.
No graves, no closure, no time to prepare, Just silence swallowed by salt in the air.
And you say, “That was then, why you holding the past?” But trauma don’t move just because time passed.
You don’t bury a wound by ignoring the scar, You don’t heal a people by denying who they are.
You built your empires on backs that broke, Now you’re surprised that the pain still spoke?

You say “move on”… like it’s easy to do, Like the past didn’t bleed into all that we knew.

Like the wealth, the power, the structures you claim…Aren’t still echoing that original pain.

Don’t tell me how to mourn…You don’t carry this weight. Don’t tell me “let it go”…When you still benefit.
You don’t set the time…For when my people heal…You don’t write the script…For what we’re allowed to feel.
If the past is so gone…Then why does it remain?In the systems, the silence…in the cycle of pain?
Don’t tell me how to mourn…This grief ain’t yours to claim.

You say “equal rights,” but the fight still exists, Different chains now, but they still on the wrists. From the streets to the cells to the roles we’re denied, You changed the method… but the mindset survived.
We get policed for our tone, for our skin, for our stance, Then you question our anger like it’s just circumstance. Say “Why are you loud? Why you bringing this up?”‘ Cause silence is comfort… for those at the top.
You teach history soft, leave the truth out the frame, Make it sound like a lesson, not a system of pain. Then you tell us, “Be grateful, you’re free now, it’s done, “While the echoes of injustice still weigh on your sons.
And the world watches close how we process our grief, Then critiques how we speak… instead of the grief.

You say “be peaceful”… “don’t make it divide, “But peace without justice… is silence in disguise.
You ask for forgiveness before truth is revealed…How you rush the apology… before anything’s healed?

Don’t tell me how to mourn…You don’t carry this weight. Don’t tell me “let it go”…When you still benefit.
You don’t set the time…For when my people heal…You don’t write the script…For what we’re allowed to feel.
If the past is so gone…Then why does it remain? In the systems, the silence…in the cycle of pain?
Don’t tell me how to mourn…This grief ain’t yours to claim.

We’re not asking for pity…We’re asking for truth…
Not rewriting history…but telling it… through…
The voices you silenced…the stories you hid…
The damage you measured…in what you forbid.

You don’t rush a wound…that was centuries deep…
You don’t silence a cry…that was never allowed to speak.

So don’t confuse our pain…with weakness or hate…
This is memory speaking…at its natural rate.
And if healing is real…then let it be true…
It starts with the truth…
Not comfort for you.