Black Single Parent.
Black lips. Black words.
Black skin. Black verse.
White Culture America,
The symbols, they thirst,
All too familiar,
For that Black Monster Godzilla.
Such Novelties and curious, Curiosities,
These Hidden Pleasures,
Off the Beaten Path, Treasures.
Expectations from Endemic Pressures,
Spotlighting the Differences.
And reprogrammed senses.
Celebrate, Denigrate, Elevate, and Isolate…
All, do Separate, Amplify, and Accentuate.
Breathing life into the canvas and it’s mythologies,
Sparking grotesque interest in perceived subhuman curiosities.
Gimme some. Gimme some. Gimme some Gotcha! Who dat?
Who dem? Observe and go tell ’em.
The only way out is for er’body to get freedom.
Give in, yield to, dissolve the Black threads,
Tighten up, lock in, and let hang the Black dreads.
Gimme some. Gimme some. Gimme some Gotcha! Drop da sign…
Drop out the line, break out of the barriers of the mind,
Unravel the noodle, absorb the oodles of nutrients for the soul,
But if I told you so, there is no such thing as a Black people and thus White,
It’s just so. All just concepts to divide and dehumanize a life,
Made up, harmful things that steal, shoot, stab, and deride.
The reality rides low, to think the aspirations still ride high.
Would you think it to be so, or believe it to be a lie?
Growth or static (quo),
(C) Copyright 2017
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