KING

Killing Innocent NeGroes
Oldest pasttime of a land.

Where the darkness of your skin
Denies rights; so understand.

To the many born in plight,
This condition, linked to shade,

Tomorrow becomes a dream,
As our futures start to fade.

At each corner and each turn,
Within America’s shores.

Being black instantly means,
You are less, despite what’s yours

No degree and no acclaim
Will ever precede that view.

You’re always suppose to see
That at best, you’re number two.

This conscious state of thinking
Weaves the fabric where we lay.

Slowly breeding disconnect,
United land, gone astray.

Those empowered with the right
Both to serve and to protect

Here we find them using means,
To destroy, to maim, deflect.

To be young, black and alive,
Through a badge, X marks the spot.

Guilty ’til proven guilty.
Few chances to prove we’re not.

Looking to prayer, thoughts of hope,
These are ways we sort this life,

How often have we been here,
Holding back the inner strife?

Some time soon the prayers will end,
Hope for change already died.

Can this land truly behold,
A black voice that’s unified?

The dream of every king,
Is to lead a people, whole.

Some past leaders, X and King,
Gave their lives to reach that goal.

Let them hate and let them kill,
Change in others we can’t make.

Let us build, and let us plan,
Show how much more we won’t take.

Destroy the root of the cause
That justifies all their views.

Be the image that is feared,
Give them nothing more to use.

Without that, we’ll meet again,
Filled with rage and eyes with tears.

Searching for those answers lost,
Behind folks stricken by fears.

 

Choices need to be made.  Changes need to come.  Or else, nothing can be enjoyed.