If even a drop of Eurasian-African ancestry
runs in your veins, and you are gazing at
the Giza pyramids in awe, wiping sweat
from your forehead, think that you are certain
to have had ancestors who pulled those stones
from the harbour, and up the ramps, to where
they sit; days and years and generations, on beer
and bread, and sweat and faith, while other
ancestors of yours sat in their palaces, watching
anxiously their tombs rise. And if you enter
the chambers inside, remember, some desperate
ancestors of yours broke in, saw the burial
chambers full, and robbed what they could.
19.06.2024
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
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