“Yes, the strong gets more while the weak ones fade (Holiday)”

Three generations of me have worked with no pay

Down here I am an object, not a human being

They’ve taken my voice and treat me mean

Who will save me from the Triple K?

Lord, please let me see another day

 

I am alive and I am gone

I am millions and I am just one

I am the past and still the future

My mind, body, spirit is one with nature

The earth welcomes me daily with open arms

When I run away, I’ll be far from harm

 

So alone I go from the white field that bleeds red

Wanna find the freedom to say what needs to be said

I hear up yonder there’s an educated kind

I was told that I only had empty space for a mind

 

As I walk my journey I remember Billie's “strange fruit”

Those fallen have traveled with me

In my memory they will always be

 

The smell of pain, sound of bitterness, and taste of sorrow

Pulls me from the past – into the promising days of tomorrow

I pass the Harlem Opera House

Listening to Duke Ellington’s angelic voice seep out

 

The libraries I see are not furnished with “Blacks Keep Out”

I guess I’ll go see what it’s all about

I tap my feet to the rhythm of Zora’s words

Jazz fills my heart as I continue to walk through the pages of wonder to

Langston’s beat

 

I continue to walk, run toward a bright shining light

It brings me hope

It gives me happiness

It makes me Harlem.