Post by thapoeticrose on May 31, 2009 6:27:55 GMT -5
I am crying freedom’s past through histories hourglass
With each grain of fallen sand, our history becomes harder to understand…
Though each grain has slowly fallen, our fight for equality “we’re still a calling”
Can you here us in our walk of hardened bare feet, dragging the whites of our unlaundered sheets, and begging request to be mentally free…
Our souls we never offered for the taken, no matter the lack of our ancestor’s education
We will not be crushed by mental expectations…
The drums are playing our battle songs; the trumpet is sounding a victory won…
No more scrubbing floors upon my knees, No more living in the back house without owning the keys…No more beatings by the master when work isn’t done, no more raping by the master, being forced to have their sons…
No more controlling or faceless insecurity, because who I am…Is your black history… From the days past, I am your black mother and father together at last…
I am the color of midnight, the color of sand… the color of strengthened woman and the color of strong man… I am the walk in your belief and the talk in your courage… I am the hope in your heart when there are feelings of discourage…
My people we belong not only to this land, but we belong to our lord who truly understands.... That we are tested and adjusted spiritually as one, so lets live together classified with unity in our present and past making of black history…..
©Rose M. King 2008
With each grain of fallen sand, our history becomes harder to understand…
Though each grain has slowly fallen, our fight for equality “we’re still a calling”
Can you here us in our walk of hardened bare feet, dragging the whites of our unlaundered sheets, and begging request to be mentally free…
Our souls we never offered for the taken, no matter the lack of our ancestor’s education
We will not be crushed by mental expectations…
The drums are playing our battle songs; the trumpet is sounding a victory won…
No more scrubbing floors upon my knees, No more living in the back house without owning the keys…No more beatings by the master when work isn’t done, no more raping by the master, being forced to have their sons…
No more controlling or faceless insecurity, because who I am…Is your black history… From the days past, I am your black mother and father together at last…
I am the color of midnight, the color of sand… the color of strengthened woman and the color of strong man… I am the walk in your belief and the talk in your courage… I am the hope in your heart when there are feelings of discourage…
My people we belong not only to this land, but we belong to our lord who truly understands.... That we are tested and adjusted spiritually as one, so lets live together classified with unity in our present and past making of black history…..
©Rose M. King 2008
