I know it is my voice, my noise, my cries
and i don't speak for a thousand me, just the one i know;
For in a thousand i loose the voice i haven't found,
The fire i haven't ignited
I know how i sound and it not a sign of weakness
But not threatening;
I have an identity,
One which I have be bearing;
By how far,
I say a million
Thundering steps, stumps, thuds,
Hit the ground, destroy you worshipping maggots.
The roots are lifted, tasted before rendered "you-less"
and you have not a family, not the tree, just as they don't agree.
It feels strange now,
To have you feel slaved and young all again
Scream your momma, she can't hear
I screamed mine while you buried my head,
Comfort your battle,
You haven't lost, i clipped your wings as you clipped mine.
In a twinkle, a blink, a mere passage of time, crippled by you;
Folded and stashed like a cloth that you see fit;
Hostile to the truth and you steal him,
His life, his right, his surviving fight,
That he is black doesn't put a bullet his in heart just as fast.
© 2020 Favour Ali