They told me that a little blackbird couldn't fly

and they were made to die.

They told me that a little blackbird couldn't be free

and will always be  a mental slave part of slavery.

 

I've always wondered why was the little blackbird systemed to fail

and the only escape they gave was jail.

I've always wondered why the little blackbird was a victim of police brutality

in a society where all lives were supposed to matter equally

 

They told me that the little blackbird could never amount to anything

and that they are criminals only made for incarcerating.

That the little blackbird could prosper only in the birdcage

and should not be enraged or they'll go on a rampage.

 

I started to believe what they told me

and stopped questionning, "When will I be free?"

and started accepting the harsh reality 

and allowed them to brainwash me

into an illusion that told me who I should be.

 

They made me believe that  they clipped my wings

and and left me only with the stinging pains.

Tears ran down my face as they told me I will never fly

and will only die.

 

That's when I found the pen that dissipated the illusion

and ended the confusion.

The pen that called me master and made me a poet.

Even through the hard times the pen was there to help me endure it.

That's when I realized poetry gave me back my wings

and taught me how to sing and allowed freedom to ring.

-Lugenie Raymond