by Kasime Mirsky

Because of you, my family is divided.
Because of you, my history is lost.
Who is my grandfather? His father? His mother?

Disowned for loving darker skin.
A sin they wanted washed away from our name.
You are not great, and you are not holy.
You are poison to the land, to the people.

I do not mourn you. I loathe you
For taking away what is mine.
What I need, what every person needs.

You brought your selfish desire to
A land my eye might never see,
A land my feet might never touch,
A land that I might never call home.

That land is lost to the poison
you brought down on it. You raped its people.
Cast them aside. Threw them away.

Your life is not celebrated
Or mourned, as all you have caused
Is destruction in your wake.

Kasime Mirsky is a New York City native, currently earning a BA in Literature and Creative Writing at NYU. She is a mother, a devoted wife, and a lover of a good bottle of wine. She is currently working on a novella that includes characters from Rapunzel, Jack and the Beanstalk, and Little Red Riding Hood.