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,
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.
Continue to contribute to today’s way of thinking.
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’
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
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.
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
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
That matches the beat of our hearts
While we struggle through the pain
Serving as a mechanism
To keep my people stagnant
Only allowing a small percentage to obtain
A higher degree of knowledge
A percentage of that percentage
takes advantage of their educational privilege
To forget where they came from
And to forget who they are
A detriment to this nation
Not only enslaving my people
But silencing them
inhibiting their political thoughts
And eliminating their human rights
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
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