Sunday, August 7, 2011

Why Don't You

Inspiration: I was thinking about history I think.
Word: Screanin.

Why don't you,
tip toe on the backs of the screamin' graves
and listen to the stories of the unworthy
Aren't they filthy?
Did they scare you?
I bet they spooked you-

Why don't you,
tip toe into the scene 
and watch her scream as
his diabolic claws
tare through the barriers of an innocent-
Blood on the walls?
Don't run just-
watch the gun on your way out
pointing into the screamin' mouth
of the pretty brown babe
who tried to run from being made
Its not funny any more, is it?
The lifelessness of the names
plastered on every slave
plastered on every maid 
plastered on everyone, who, made us-
It's like we've always be pieces of clay
broken into conformity 
by a heavy kneading and a heartless beating 
Why don't you,
try to understand the feelings of
the lost as they lost 
the one that was their all.
See family had no root,
has no root,
because of the misplaced stem cells,
and the maddening white cells,
that creeped between young african thighs
and corrupted the blood line.
Why do they lie,
Would I lie?
About the quiet history
About this sick mystery
that brought us here,
that changed are lives
and provoked us to fight.
Why don't you,
sit down and watch the struggle,
Betta yet,
Why don't you,
get up and be apart of it,
Stop it.
Be more the N word,
and show the world the Nubian Prince
that your people were,
before they were sent into
a bottomless journey of conformity 
of losing their unconventionality 
of being forced to deny their own beauty.
Why don't you,
ponder the greatness that made us
and instill it in everyone who is you
and force it upon everyone who isn't you
and feed it, to everyone who won't acknowledge you
and be it 
instead of the you they created 

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