poetry slam;
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A word born from ignorance and hate
A word to oppress, to limit our fate
Born into a world that is filled with pain sorrow
They always make you wish you didn’t have to face tomorrow.
A little boy who experienced nothing but hate,
Grew into a man that spoke words and caused you to meditate.
And it's not necessarily the way you look at Jesus,
But the way I don't.
And it's not necessarily the way you know how to say every line,
Of every prayer,
At every mass,
But the way I choose not to.
What a shame, how we all were treated before,
False accusations, people judged the color of skin.
Our potential, needs, and feelings were forgotten, ignored,
Our worn and torn shoes, no one has thought to step in.
The roots of my hair
come from the roots of my background.
Though I am my culture,
I am not only my hair,
my roots, I’m free.
If anything, my hair is me.
Golden paths,
chocolate delights,
Step, step, step—
I walk the streets of Selma to obtain the unattained.
Whip, whip, whip—
The bone chilling voices of ancestors of plantation owners quiver down my spine.
Bark, bark, bark—
(Also sounds appropriate as a rap)
"I had a dream" started all this buzz
they said "it ain't fair"
but they were right because--
