I remember

I can see you begging

I've watched us begging for 40 years

Though you will not call it as such

You will tell yourself that the Americans are our friends

That they love us and respect us

But unfortunately I remember. 

I remember far longer than you do, apparently

I remember how they came in and murdered our president

I remember how their soldiers insisted they knew how to fight better than us

Even though we'd been fighting there for a millenia

I remember the failure of their spirit that cost us our war

So yes, I can see you begging

But I do not fault you for it

But I hear you say me seeing you begging

Makes me the enemy

For what else is there to do?

But Beg

You beg well, learned you are as a dog

But I have not learned to bark

I remember

And I do not forgive

And every day I live here tears at my being and pulls against the feeling of where I am supposed to be, where we are supposed to be

Which is home

Away from here.

Away from what our home now looks like

Away from every murder, duplicity, bowing, scrimping, begging, lying indignity that we have suffered

for 40 years

I remember.

I remember and it is all I can do to keep from screaming out when you say how grateful you are to the americans. 

Who gutted us.

Hamstrung us.

Betrayed us.

I remember.

And the fog of my desperation does not cloud my memory, nor does the grip of my greed twist my tongue to tell pretty platitudes of how great americans were to us. 

You killed us. 

This whole society killed us.

And I survive on only to utter this:

I remember.