To The Deniers

To The Deniers

I cannot fathom to hear the assumption

That everyone is the same.

When you say that there is one race,

The human race,

I can no longer find you sane.

In this world,

Color matters.

The color of my skin

Will always determine my future.

I can climb mountains,

Walk the moon,

Win an Olympic medal,

But still be seen as

An inferior being

in the eyes of

Your ancestors and your people.

Your ancestors,

Although gone,

Continue to contribute to today’s way of thinking.

Racism,

Once blatant,

Is now ingrained so deep into the soil of this country

That the trees’ roots soak in hatred

And release droplets of the blood

spilt from my ancestors’ veins.

Blood slowly dripping from the whippings,

From the nooses tightly wrapped around the necks

Of hanging black bodies.

Bloody tears my people spared

Because of the same American liberty

That Your people refused to share.

How can you dare say

That racism no longer exists

Cuz When a Black man resists

His body becomes a receptacle of bullets.

Why does my body tense up

At the thought of my brothers’

Independence

Cuz once they’re independent

The system makes them dependent.

Emasculating the black man

Raping away the self-love of the Black woman

Destroying powerful Black civilizations

All because of a different pigmentation

 

We lost our history

And our sense of identity

Because of your people’s greed

We lost our love for one another  

The care we had for each other

Now these things are rarely seen

Black on black crime

Is On the rise

Chicago

Detroit

We are losing black lives

Using our own hands to kill our own

And at the same time

Having our supposed protectors

Instinctively kill us Cold.

 

Crack rock

A substance that has stripped and taken away the lives of so many

fathers, mothers, sistas, brothas

While Devaluing the necessity of family.

A substance implanted into the black community

To demolish its unity

Its fight for justice

And its self awareness

 

Hip Hop,

A part of our culture that has been appropriated

Lyrics describing our struggle rapped out of your people’s mouths

Not understanding the history behind it

Each line

Each rhyme

Each beat

That matches the beat of our hearts

While we struggle through the pain

 

Education

Serving as a mechanism

To keep my people stagnant

Only allowing a small percentage to obtain

A higher degree of knowledge

However

A percentage of that percentage

takes advantage of their educational privilege

To forget where they came from

And to forget who they are

 

Mass incarceration

A detriment to this nation

Not only enslaving my people

But silencing them

inhibiting their political thoughts

And eliminating their human rights


 

Water

Dirty and disgusting for my people to consume

The color resembling the color of our skin

To symbolize its inferiority to yours’

To inflame our throats

Causing suffocation

Preventing us from defending ourselves sand expressing our pain

 

As our blood continues to violently splatter

All over this country’s soil,

This country gains dominance

Over our individuality

And our freedom of thought

It restricts us

From soaring outside of the box

Outside of its comfort zone

Where we subconsciously accept its foul play

And never gain the courage to say

That enough is enough

Chronicles of a Foodie: Ya Girl Can Cook Y'all!

Chronicles of a Foodie: Ya Girl Can Cook Y'all!

Reflections

Reflections