The land of milk and honey was built on money generated by a generation of slaves who stayed poor. Despite the elimination of segregation and slavery, their bravery remains with me, never forgotten.
But I can think back to when they were niggas and spits. Driven by whips and their salaries were nickels and beads. It never found its way to the wardrobes of poor folks, whose poor, soaked in sweat from chores they did.
Sores from whips turned into permanent scars, and lashes from their masters determined how hard they toiled the soil in heat hot enough to boil, the brown skin from their backs…
And still pay tax!
I feel blacks got the short straw. Because we still ain’t got half what we fought for. We fought hoards of clan members, neo nazis, and lantanas, but we still getting manipulated like antennas.
It’s time to stand!
Get up!
Tell the man that we’re fed up! Until we get our proper respect we can’t let up. If thousands of people could lose their lives to it, the least you can do is open up your eyes to it.