I Am Human
You cannot steal my worth.
RIP Jacob Blake and the countless other victims of police violence.
This life ain’t satisfactory.
It saddens me.
Casually,
assaulting all of my faculties.
“Facts” can be,
just such a catastrophe.
Apathy,
when you realize you are a casualty,
of real lies
and believing in rabbits feet.
In blue skies,
eating American pie rabidly.
But what you see isn’t always what it is.
Rapidly,
smacking these gums,
teaching these kids.
Ones with dark skin are more deserving of a bid.
Lives uncivilized,
need rehabilitation.
You need white peace to balance the blackness of them.
When I’m speaking my piece,
they cut me down to my skin.
Language barrier stems
from the declaring of him,
as sub-human.
Coping mechanism so they can see themselves win.
We go through it,
hoping this schism can be shelved in the end.
Guess when moving up ain’t clear
easy to love looking down on them.
Now we’re shooting up peers to let the 1% win.
A cancer with cold tumors,
cells prop up the system we’re in.
Destroying us from the inside because of our skin.
Ironic…
That’s why I can’t part with my pen,
I need y’all to know I exist.
While you humor these rumors
that we’ve been heard in the end.
They herd my hood into pens
so it’s easy to silence our women and men.
Choose your fighter then,
more appeal for the lighter skin.
In Street Fighter,
can you tell me why Akuma is so much darker than Ken?
The darker the skin,
then the less of a friend.
The lesson imprints
my skin tone holds a villain within.
It’s a cold game.
They want me living in bold shame.
I refuse to do it.
You won’t make me feel like a no name.
I’m a black man with dreams.
I have plans.
They film bloody scenes and act as if they don’t understand.
No need to prove my humanity to those
that I know don’t give a damn.
Feelings been backed up.
For a long time,
instilling fear
is how they’ve been giving dams.
No need to worry about sharing if you just hold back a man.
First they would send the Klan.
Our introduction to Reconstruction was to be flooded with violence.
Fear holding us back,
made a lot of us silent.
The ones to overcome
got killed during the night shift.
Fred Hampton,
Martin Luther,
Try to make change and they shoot ya.
But I swear I cannot take it no more.
I promise to break through to the fore.
And let the water of truth
touch the roots of the poor.
While I do what I can,
I pray for the strength to do more.
Until it’s me that those bells ringing for.
But when they get me,
the bell won’t just ring,
it’ll roar.
The people I touched will sing until they are sore.
If I go under,
it’ll be because I’m building a floor.
That foundation will be an inspiration for our generation and more.