When you look at me, I pray that you see
more than a black soul strolling across the
streets of society, a beautiful existence filled
with incredible intelligence, intricate equations,
blazing creativity captivating the nation, flawless
fractions so dashing, systematic additions minus
the subtraction, a blasting beat on the boulevard
rocking nonstop.

When you look at me, I pray that you will understand
the history behind my melanin skin, how every day is a
struggle in this heartless world, how so many before me
walked through the fires of hell, living and breathing
the outrage of white racists, unorthodox thoughts,
problematical solutions to complex questions, trigger
racing bullets fired throughout the land, slipping
in quicksand, hung by the throat, burned for sheer sport,
hands tied to a ride, driven full force as their useless
limbs sizzled with the touch of the road, nothing more
but a dead corpse.

When you look at me, I pray that you will allow me
to be a part of your world, to be in harmony and
celebrate humanity, to march together throughout
the streets of persecution, hoping to make a change,
hoping that someday we all can stand together as one
and be a family.