Unrest

I am tired and I’m weary 

I understand now why Momma sang in the kitchen while overlooking the backyard.

Even in the sanctity of home the reminder is constant, 

the line drawn. 

Is this some thorn in the flesh to never forget? 

To keep her and Daddy, now me, with a sense of unrest.  

To continue the fight for justice until our souls declare no more need for protest!

When the world will shift from chaos to chaos, 

as it did in the beginning when God declared; “Let there be…” And it was. 

Only now it’s our turn. 

And we’ve been declaring; “Let there be! And “Let freedom ring!” 

We’ve been screaming it from every mountain side, 

Praying that one day The Dream would be our; “Let there be!”

And it was.  

Take us from this interstitial existence 

and reckon us to our destined self.

Then 44 came along. 

And we all changed our tune

for we just knew; A change gone come.

And it did

Within our hearts and souls for a moment,

but the moments were fleeting because in the midst of the moments were:

Oscar Grant

Sandra Bland

Trayvon Martin

Pamela Turner

Michael Brown, Jr. 

Atatiana Jefferson

Laquan McDonald

Korryn Gaines

Tamir Rice

Tanisha Anderson

Terence Crutcher

Shantel Davis

Dominique White

Ayana Stanley-Jones

Eric Garner

LaVena Johnson

Philando Castile

Freddie Gray

Botham Jean

Ahmaud Arbery

Breonna Taylor

George Floyd 

Don’t take reminding from a wall that still sits tall. 

Designed to separate, divide, keep us out; more than not letting them in 

But I must toil on

Oh, sometimes how I do wish 

The Lord would come and carry me away

But not before my time, 

Because another human with skin far fairer than mine 

doesn’t appreciate the beauty in my ebony hue. 

If he only knew 

Chances are 

his great-great granddaddy’s blood is in mine too. 

There will peace in the valley for me some day

But why can’t my someday be, today? 

They stole us from our land

Brought us to stolen land

Chained, whipped, raped, branded, beaten,

Spat upon, hanged, lynched

Oh, no children, I was speaking of 401 years ago,

Not this morning. 

Yeah, it’s been happening that long. 

Yeah, you’re right, 

Something terribly awful is wrong.

But not with you! 

Don’t you dare look within and not see the beauty that resides; 

Inside.

But I need you to live life 

not just with fist held high and pride, 

But with open eyes! 

No more sorrow. No more sadness. Nor troubles…

Now I won’t promise that you won’t experience your share of them.

We tried with pride and wrestled with God throughout the weary years 

As we and our ancestors cried silent tears.

We marched with Martin; Ain’t gonna let nobody turn me ‘round

And declared with Malcolm, by any means necessary 

We would regain what’s inherently just; 

The independence 

They celebrate annually on the 4th

From the injustice 

gained when they discovered an occupied nation of Natives. 

The audacity of hope to disappoint with repetitive spasms. 

How many times must we turn the other cheek? 

Jesus said, “but seventy times seven”

If it’s metaphorical; we’re exhausted, Lord!

But if it’s literal; We. Have. Exhausted. Lord. 

There the bear will be gentle, the wolf will be tame 

From the thought of never-ending pain,

At the unrelenting hand of this unconstitutionally diabolical land; 

That declared me three-fifths of a man.

And the lion will lay down by the lamb 

But I will be damned if I’ll succumb to the characterization affixed by you!

Who for hundreds of years walked in darkness and perpetrated it as truth? 

The host from the wild 

Nah. I won’t ever forget, Mom and Dad 

Will be led by a Child

I’ll keep fighting with unrest

Until 

Until

Until

I’ll be changed from this creature that I am.