In today’s society, yesterday reminds me of tomorrow and a second pass midnight dawns another day of exhaling.  This is a society where the value of life bares “no meaning,” on the heads of our black children.  Whose blood is spilled upon the paved streets, on top of hells ceiling.

A fragile label has been placed on the box of our black youth.  Not by outside influences or agitators, but by our own hands with fingers of genocide.  We, as a people of color seem to break like glass, when it’s time to stay strong.  These are predatory grounds; we walk on as a people of color. 

“But who are the predators?”

“Are the predators invisible to our peripheral vision?”

There must be a time for change.

Change from the shackles of degradation, self-hatred, weak spirits, jealousy, and self-pity.

It’s time to come in from off the cold streets of misconception.

It’s time to rise up from the myth of drug selling, gangbanging, hustling, and prostitution, claiming wealth and respect in these things.

It’s time to use the mind which was born to us, as a tool against oppression. 

As I peer out upon the past, present, and future of us as a people. 

I see the shadows of empty gaps that could be engulfed by our own determination. 

Education is a factor not divisible by one, but seems to be allusive to our black youth and adults with a “No Future Syndrome.” They are living for today’s glory which last only so long. 

Not for tomorrow, which life revolves around.

Two thousand and eleven and Pharaohs Army has surrounds us, but in a harsh wind from across the Red Sea of despair, I can still hear,  “Let my people go,” emanating from the souls of our people of color. 

Shall we sink or swim in today’s society?

Shall we walk or crawl to our future?

Shall we stumble or stand tall receiving respect from the magistrate of this society.

 “What will it be?” Life waits for no one and bears strange fruits.

And for black fathers our immortality comes from our children. 

“Shall they grow?”

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