It’s simple you see

We’re angry.

We’ve held our outrage

by a string,

A ballon of animosity

I can’t believe has lasted so long,

Maybe our hope has contained it

Hope for 

Equality,

Peace, 

Dignity, shoot

Hope for Freedom

I still feel my wrists chained together,

And I can see chains dangle from fragile,

Yet brave and determined brothas and sistas

These ancient chains come to be hereditary

We are imprisoned, oppressed, 

Not free to be black!

The moment we’re born.

This balloon of animosity

Grows with each new beautiful young and

Hope grows lethargic while attempting 

To grasp this balloon

But we’ve felt our 

Black heads pinned to the concrete,

We’ve felt our lives held

In the hands of a murder (cop, I mean),

And our anger has found freedom

Pop!