I am the kid in the back
with the afro so black
My first name is Amandla
Although i never knew it was mine
Mind over matter
Grandfather had lost his in the mines
Put me through school, hoping my poetry would rhyme
Time and time again, i lost my power to a mime
Trapped in a box, society’s ills been intertwined
Swallow a pill, hoping that we would never rewind
We’re begging for signals, searching for things we already hold deep inside
How many times
Asking for signs
We closed the blinds to our eyes
The wise are dead
Or instead we ignore their words, like the Ts and Cs on our TVs
The songs i wish our hearts would sing
Desires a shooting star can’t bring
The mocking bird that never used it’s wings