With the Stroke of a Pen: A Poem
Demagogues spitting lies.
With odious speeches and rote cries.
History's song and dance recycled.
Polemics against black potential.
Won't be tolerated as an equal.
And the storyline continues as sequels.
Lynching of characters and joy.
Proselytizes to less than worth like toys.
Purloin our strength until it hurts.
Soil the reputation of our life's work.
Life jogs on like a New York City marathoner.
Respect never regarded as a common denominator.
While on popularity highs standing on intellectual rostrums
The anathema of the world must be someone.
Better if coffled together in barracoons.
Controlled without political uprisings, voices or clues.
Striving for chains to noose so-called suicides.
Having us fixed on silence til the evenings of our lives.
Go ahead and slam your brakes on change.
We crash in the back door and socially claim.
Uplifted courage to cross the line.
Beyond the roles of just aspirants, we climb.
You are bound to attract with interesting talk.
So hungry we eat the weighted bull with pitchforks.
You should know, consanguineous ties have us as brethren.
Lucy's bones say that we all are her children.
No odious speech or rote cry then should be recycled to offend!
Demagogues, let's start a new family story with the stroke of a pen.