S o n g o f m y p e o p l e . . .

Would it mean anything to you

If we shouted from the shingled rooftops
– yes shingled, not thatched –

If we screamed out the agony?

” H E L P ! ”

“W e  n e e d  c h a n g e ! ”

We need change.

 

Would you prefer

To not know?

Than, to have it spread open,

Like a vagina
– belonged, like cattle, not woman,
cause she is owned not free –

Spread in your face

In her need of heat

And you still don’t feel enough to want to help…

 

It sure is easier to be

ignore-ant to things

Not directly

Overly affecting

you.

 

Yet, let us join together,

Onward, Upward, Forward, Together…

 

And continue speaking on changing the national average [math] grade…

 

Let us continue to stay quiet about the;

abuse of our children
– by the once trusted-

abuse, the dark feel of abandonment
– lack of care in a place full of people –

abuse, handed out to the people
– rape, prevalent among the less of power, taught by those in power…-

 

Words

Unspoken

Pacified

Actions

Mind Games

Realities…

 

May the song of my people…

Be one of quiet frustration…

still too scared of our own greatness.

 

 

[Photo Cred: https://www.google.co.uk/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwjWmrzByMrNAhUrD8AKHbCKDsMQjB0IBg&url=http%3A%2F%2Factiverain.com%2Fblogsview%2F4175905%2Fbahamas-real-estate—private-owned-islands&bvm=bv.125596728,d.ZGg&psig=AFQjCNG2WA3cxinHMY_Eb7WSNYFLHU-aBA&ust=1467197971488514]

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