My burden is too heavy to carry
People of my race are dying
One can't walk on the side of the road
without having a bullet pierce
through their melanin bodies
Chocolate,
Caramel,
or brown sugar
I can't accept the violence
SUPPRESS THIS ISSUE !
I demand sacrifice to the wrong guidance
'Cause I can't sit and cry with a tissue
preparing a eulogy
for my blood brother and sister
who've been shot by the minority
I step foot on this ground
and declare an apology
Slave me not
for I am a human
THAT IS BLACK
Can't you see the protests ?
This is not a contest
What happened to the freedom knot ?

Equality and diversity?
- I can't accept the current adversity
Rights and responsibilities?
- But black beings are bein exposed
to vulnerability
Rules and regulations?
- I thought we had amalgamation

World War III ?
No ...
I want us to be free

declarations of independents
Ribbons of whole heartache leap from the open page of turning tithes. I am sent here in soluable frequency to spire darkness with a spear of light, hoisted high above my sunny head I am turn down the noise and offer you silence with a vengeance to feel. i am unity in overcoming I am selling you hope i am hurried and shushed out I am sore from the shrapnel of life's dark hauntings i AM poised to reflect. I am the shape of something unseen and the likes of me have never been defined. I am Gods own, I am no ones tether or toy. I am hurdles behind, before, and in front I am celebrations of love left to stand in the sun I am not free. I am running for the door with demons to slay I am slippery to grips untame and I believe I am something and someone good and true, and as I wind down this windfall, now who are you?

My life shattered but won't give out
My wife coughs out; words leave her mouth
And it's a no, i was so ready to go
Didn't we say so? All those times we played? Didn't we always find a way? Oh
And look how she spares her pride, tears in her eyes; she's dead inside
And from my chest - no reply; but sparks on wires my heart replies
Nerves that can't form
Words to reply
Let me expire; send word to mum and sis; become a miss
I hate when you see me like this
Every wait weights upon our bliss
It's all sorts of horrific; let me be specific
Wouldn't it be terrific
To just let me go; remember we were just so
Soul to soul and oh so whole
Not all of these charts and missives
I liked you in control but i hate me this submissive
Now i've hit the wall; time comes for us all
It's unacceptable to contemplate my fall
Now be swift and hit the switch;
It's on the wall
If it would please you i always believed in you;
you know it's true
Please don't look appalled
Me and you were always one
Now it's all for one
And one for all

.......

how could you possibly sleep though the night knowing that the woman at the end of your bed is disappointed because you couldn't help her, because you are healthy and her children are dying, because you may not have a shelter from your own mind but at least you had a shelter from the world and that's more than she ever had? how could you possibly sleep soundly knowing that the woman in tatters at the end of your bed is crying for her lost love and the marriage she was forced to have who a man that saw her as nothing but a ****** for him to play with? how could you possibly sleep peacefully knowing that the woman in tears at the end of your bed is looking at you and wondering why you're alive and smiling while her children were thrown into a mass grave after her town was bombed by your own patriotic country? how could you sleep and not spend every waking moment caring for the poor woman at the end of your bed? how?

when i was younger, this boy used to tease me about my skin color;
how much it resembles coal,
and how it makes me look like an Aeta,
and how they can't see me in the dark,
but even before that i was insecure.
because when people bothered to look at me,
they'd only see ebony
and to them it was synonymous with ugly and *****.

but i don't blame them.

they're just caught in the current of colonialism
when we measured one’s status through the hue of their skin
and we followed.
we followed their discrimination of the ones whose skin didn't look like the exact duplicate of ivory and marshmallow.
we followed their system of supremacy of putting the lighter ones up in the stars to match whiteness with brightness.
we followed their standards of beauty which just happened to be the exact ******* opposite of our majority.

now our country is driven mad
by the idea of whitening your skin
until your heritage is nowhere to be seen;  
it has been scrubbed off by papaya soap,
masked by glutathione
and devalued by insults.
but hey,
who cares about heritage if you look like that European actress?
who cares about culture when you could pass off as an American?
who cares about natural brown when synthetic white wears the crown?

off with the heads
of the heads of the states
out of the houses
and into the streets
no borders
no nations
no more exploitation
no starvation wages
or indoctrination
abolish all prisons
put kops out of jobs
an end to these prisms
and liberal facades
tired of lies from people in power
drag the bourgeois out their ivory towers
tear down the walls
dismantle the systems
answer the calls
don't act like you missed them
the time is now
the place is here
no hesitation
no more of this fear
the time to fight is now

Oppressive silence
Brings me to my knees;
Embracing the hopeless despair
That accompanies the same quiet
That comes before calamity strikes-
Before the storm touches down over land;
Before all hell breaks loose.
This forbidden orchestra
Of bodiless volume,
Plucks invisible strings
of the Fates, intertwined
To tug at my faithless heart
As I survey the scorched earth below.
How hollow it all seems now;
These trumpets of victory
Sounding choked and strained
Cracking under the weight of their lies,
Bursting the brass
as they bugle out a call to rebel-
For who could call this bitter resolution a victory?
Who could name it clean,
Justified,
When all but the truly frightened
succumb to this heinous masterpiece
Why think to make a new tune,
It asks us;
Why make a new composition,
When the old one will suffice?
Rolling over and over again,
Into new hands with the same minds,
The cycle begins again;
Exchanging one facade for another,
As the musicians warm up,
Ready to play the music that we've always danced to;
Mere puppets to the Maestros
That conduct and direct
Our shattered hopes and dreams.
Shall we not contradict
The balance of power,
Or else leave it to sit in the hands of fools and tyrants?
Once composed,
It can still be unwritten,
Unlearned;
A performance piece we won't allow any longer,
A dying art that deserves the dust that we've crawled from.
We are not pawns in a chord that will not harmonize with us;
We are not weak, shallow things that crawl
beneath the feet of these giants;
We are music itself,
A ballad of shared ideals,
A melody of minds,
unsullied by the temptation of power,
Our discordant notes falling away as we remember our worth in this world.
Like a crescendo,
We can join,
We can rise to change the music,
Rippling and reverberating across this vast auditorium-
For the whole world is our stage,
Our audience;
And they are looking to us,
To be better than what we've known before.
I can hear the beginning notes,
Wavering at first,
Whistled on lips in back alleys
Whispered on the streets,
In our hearts-
Calling to us,
Pleading with us to change the outcome this time,
Asking us the only question that matters :
Will you stand to ovation?
Or will you fall to devotion?