Freedom

I want …

I want to sing a song

A blissful song

I know these funeral hymns all too well.

I want to be free

Barefoot feet in muddy land

I want to laugh

Laugh uncontrolled head thrown back

Cheek hurtin typa laugh

 I want to hold my lovers hand with no fear that when I let go it will be the last time

I want ..

His lips

Dark brown on the tips of my lips Dark brown

I want to feel love deep inside of me

I want to be free

free from the thoughts of death

I want our love to be enough to sustain breath

Inside of our bodies

We are all growing cold

I want freedoms

Not these same freedoms of old

I want babies who are black like the midnight sky with eyes bright like shooting stars

I want a family that will not be torn apart

I want our bellies to be content with bread and butter , rice and beans fish and fruit

The food of my ancestors

I want them to laugh and know nothing of chains and bars

Know nothing of sirens red and blue on top of cars

These symbolize hope for some

We see the grim future

The grim reaper coming to tell us death is here

Death is impending in this skin that we wear.

We do not hold on to the same dreams

When black people winnin

When black people buyin land

The pigs come out

They burn our homes at the stake

They break our families

They try to break us

But our bones is so strong

We take these lashings tearing our skin apart

Our molecules are atomically splitting as they try to tear us apart

They know how much we need each other they see how much we are linked and they think

These bullets

These bullets will catapult far enough to pierce our souls

They think those silver bullets will make us like them

Cold.

They know nothing of love.

They know nothing about need

They know nothing of peace

The love we have is so pure

They can’t kill it

They try so hard

To kill our souls

We not letting go

 

 

 

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