A water body flowing through a forest.
A beautiful image of Madagascar.

I was robbed.
Like my ancestors from their land.
like the land from my ancestors.
Like the natural, beautiful, recourses from the land,
from my ancestors.
Like the culture, history, language,
from my identity,
from my ancestors.

African history primarily began and ended with slavery, in my mind.

When you cut off a branch from the tree what memory does it hold of its roots?

I was robbed.
I did not know of
The mythology
as intricate
as the Greek’s.
Or the luscious greenery
of that land.
Or that some of the most
integral aspects of our modern society
can be traced


to Africa.

Rachel Bradford

I write free-verse poetry, but have been recently inspired by lyrical poetry. I hope to further implement music into my work, and use it as a powerful tool for my already established goal of spreading love and speaking out on political, environmental, racial, gender-based, and other social issues.

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