I'm grown;
Now imagine what I'm going to see
I have to do it for my future,
my success will fuel my son's dreams.
Teach him success isn't colorblind
His drive will have to be as twice as mine.
Black man, held down from birth. Damn.
Assata shot a pig so we can all go H.A.M.
Our history, rich and similar to that of Mansa Musa's
That's why I rhyme, hard at this flow;
I gots to be nasty...
Everyone claims to be a poet
until it comes to poetry.
until it comes to poetry.
I'm a writer....
I won't limit myself
I raised my fill line the farthest
I see further than myself;
I live further than my words;
I see further than any politicians policy;
I see the police grip tighter to their guns
steadying the peace. [HA]
I see an uprising coming by the next sun
The next son.
The next son.
To walk with Malcolm in Martian's dream, I think
Black and Gold;
Our Skin and our blood
Black and Gold
Our Pride and our Soul
Black and Gold
Black and Gold
Our Pride and our Soul
Black and Gold
We the Alpha
We the Alpha
We the Alpha

This is a great poem medling the history with our present and bringing the thinking reader to your idea of the future. Kudos.
ReplyDeleteI meant "melding" not "medling". Sorry.
ReplyDeleteI agree, this is an awesome poem. I see you repping the Black and Gold! Only way to be, LOL
ReplyDelete