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A collection of poetry that has recieved four stars or more at writing.com |
Consistently we stare into windows Shopping freedom like an expensive coat Waiting for the day it’s red tagged Wishing we can put our freedom on layaway So that we can hope for that day we can afford Our freedom The world closed their eyes for a holiday And capitalism has given our freedom a price tag Too rich for your blood Too rich for your blood To be shed on the newly buffed tiles To trickle from your fingertips onto the cold wet soil Strengthening roots Creating a tree yearning to feel the wind blow through its branches While we yearn for that sale on our freedom Standing out in the crowd as we drag it Kicking and screaming to the block White folks knows its worth The devil know its true value But we’ve been searching for so long for an answer That we could not tell that the answer was staring back at us Tears streaming from its face Knowing that it is not the answer we want In order for something to lose value People cannot want it But everyone wants what was originally ours And we willingly hand it to them Because we have not let go of the submissive ideologies The fallacies in a democratic hypocrisy Created by diasporas, great awakenings Emancipations and amendments to things not constituted We assume that, because we historically had to ask And buy and sell and steal and rob them of what was originally ours We make the assumption that we do not have it Therefore we continue to save For that day of clearance That day they say okay And we hold our black fists high With our own deed in our hands chanting We are free We are free But, if our freedom has a deed Then how free are we To understand my words, you must first understand my mind. Balik737 |