I’ve been cursed,
A hex placed on my soul,
I was forced to learn in school
That slavery was real, and that blood
Still flows through these melanated cells
How an entire organization of one mindset,
So brainwashed in their beliefs,
Are playing “who can pop a nigga and get away with it?”
My children, my unborn children
Whom I shouldn’t be imagining with my immature mind,
I already see shakles and rattles,
Food stamps and baby bottles,
Or dirty diapers and blood stained tees.
Our shirts have been the canvases for your painted hatred.
You power-hungry demons,
How you have cast the spell of fear
Now I can’t even look forward while driving,
Without staring in the rearview;
To look at those sirens,
The things that could be of nightmares
But they resound too loudly throughout the nights
For me to fall asleep.
I wander in my trance,
Not yet able to escape this illusion,
Mind too far stuck in the dream that we black have been in limbo
All these years
With our totem stolen so we don’t know the difference.
But, the thing about curses…is that they can be lifted.
It takes wise words, one preferebly found in an old book,
And an un-natrual expression,
*Pauses to let the police officer pass…*
Be still my heart, be still my heart,
I SAID BE STILL!
This reaction scheme we’re stuck in isn’t working,
Instead, we must respond
With calm minds and steeled hearts
What they don’t know is when the spell is lifted
And we catch a glimpse of the light
-Not like those above the abandoned homes,
And those upon the stage.
That light will be your bane,
The devil’s power has no hold over one who walks with God,
Don’t be afraid to believe
You will know the real you,
The one before the hex,
Before the branding,
Before the innocent blood was spilled,
For we are beautiful.