Protest
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I summon the spirits of the Chicago Seven,
Abbe Hoffman, Jerry Rubin, among others
Into this room.
I bring them back and as much as I try it's impossible
It's the spirit, not the person
Give me a drum,
Give me something to hum,
I’m so sick of sitting here,
Twiddling my thumbs
It true that unlike some,
People protest because they want to be heard.
They want to fight for their rights,
but sometimes those end up turning into fights.
People’s rights are like gold,
Let me tell you the story
Of a myth not known for glory,
Of an idea that has been forgotten
And replaced with something rotten.
Alone in the dark, yet brave
Given the power, you've adapted and slaved.
to the hateful men, and the judgemental stares.
They've taken your innocence
And turned you into tears,
Protest is a complicated word,
defined as people making their voices heard.
We are encouraged to protest for what we believe,
however no one ever seems to concede.
We are told to work together to make a change,
Where does it end?Where does the bloodshed of my brothers and sisters end?Freedom is non-existent in a world where our skin is not acceptedWe have no real rights because our race is rejected
Upon the lovely,
of America’s golden plains,
her monuments of past era,
made of steel and glass,
tempered with the fires of hope;
cast cold shadows
over astonishing rage of times.
In the Streets of America tonight
Many hands of young students scrape the sky
The colors of blue and red abrace their face
As they endlessly march unguarded
A disease that has a long history,
More devastating than ANY OTHER.
Some try to find a cure,
Whereas some just don’t care and continue with the flow.
It tears apart families like a knife through butter,
We live in a society where it is more disgraceful to kneel before a flag than to stand for racism.
Where the KKK is seen as a group of “fine people” with jobs. Families. Lives worth protecting.
People ask me what to me makes America. If you ask 1,000 people you will get 1,000 answers, some good some bad, so let me just lay down a few facts.
Smashed windows
Town stores burned to the ground
Streets blocked
Cars as our stepstools
This is not peaceful
Ruined views
Torn down pews
Yelled, screamed, shouted your brother’s name
Cease and desist
Or else suffer the consequence
We live in a police state
Corruption is rampant
Forces of racists and brutatlity reign
Another innocent gunned down, bring a city to fame
Why? What can you say to justify the gory ground that I stand upon
Glory? Ha! An infant's dream that died in me long ago
There's something lurking in our schools,
That's far scarier than ghosts or gouls.
It's sitting there stalking you,
Waiting for the teacher's cue.
One little hour is all it would take
Early in May our ride had begun,
on May 4th,1961.
The buses left Washington D.C. ,
and It wasn't what America wanted to see
They call to me
yelling shouting jeering
And this—
not my name
never never
My Name—
is all
everything
I have known.
Eyes, pale eyes—
follow glance slide past
me.
The darkness closes in.
The bag is tight around my face.
Breathing is difficult.
Fear is choking.
The light floods in
"We're free," they say.
Votes, buses, bathrooms, parks;
We can all share.
How could individuals that look SO different coincide with one another?
They said the brown animal could never be called a brother.
On August 28, 1968, two sides making up a quarter million marched as one number.
"And Justice for all"
We say it everyday.
They say it too
They must,
They do.
But do they think of us
of me, of you?
No I dare say they do not.
They only think of conserving
In a bus, in the city of Montgomery,
A woman came aboard.
Little did anyone know at the time,
That this woman would change the world.
Words, just words a man speaks,
but they cradle me in wonder.
Maybe if I wait a little longer
and I march a little stronger
As blood sprays the ground,
I stand,
Gun in hand.
All I see is death;
Now that I’m here,
I am in this war.
