In my mind
The old Negro gospel
"We shall overcome"
Is being sung
Before my eyes.
Looking back
More than 60 years
In the struggle
For Civil Rights
And true equality.
Of the many senseless deaths
Which mark
Our journey forward
From the darkness
Of hate and fear.
Despite
The many legal battles
Fought and won.
Still
I feel like
A third class citizen
In the country
I was born
In.
With it's rigid hierarchy
That places
Anyone
Who is different
On the outside
Looking in.
Tolerating us
Like a boorish family member
They want
To disappear.
I wish
You could experience
A week
In my shoes.
Confronting
The societal
And institutional barriers
You've erected
Over the centuries.
In keeping
Yourself
Safe
From the reality
Of my life.
Realizing
Your position of power
Is paid.
At a heavy price
By people
Like myself.
Therisa © 2015
Author's note: This is, one of two poems that I wrote for Day of Trans-Remembrance, November 20, 2015. The other one, titled, "The Crater", is in the process of having a clay ceramic statue being created, as I write this. Am hoping, I can have it painted and done, its second and final firing. Thus, being able to post together, here.
For those, who are just discovering me, I have survived numerous attempts on my life, from a family member, whom I have broken off, all ties with, since August 2007. Also, have threatened, by various individuals, who have chased me, on foot or by rode the back of my legs, with their car, while laughing, about it. As if, it was one huge joke, with me, being the punch line, to it.
And sadly, I have tried, on numerous occasions, to take my life, when my depression has reached, such dark levels, the bottom of the Black Sea is a brilliantly lit walk, in the park, by comparison. With my last attempt occurring, during the holiday season of 2010-11.
