....all the things,the objects,the cold freeze of the cemetary while passing.I think of the people there.White inside outside on horses trotting ignorantly;there is so much pain for our blackness,yet so much beauty there.If we would only think to what our beautiful selves would make of this world.....we would be steaming,turning blackouts over the heart of our city;allowing our love to hover,waiting for our lives to arrive at ecstasy.
....why can't we love each other and be beautiful?Why does our beauty corner each other and spit poison?Why are the beautiful not living together and understanding each others trials?........tell me why are the beautiful not walking with their arms around each other,laughing softly at the comedy of black beauty?;I know I've roamed a thousand miles searching for myself,trying to salvage my black beauty.....and yet still in the silence,staring at my people,looking at all the death of this black beauty,I can't help but wonder....why are the beautiful divided like myself?-unknown
"I'd rather be straddling the fence than to be caught in the devils backyard"-James Doe 1776
No comments:
Post a Comment