Philando Taught Me

Y’all killing me.
I analyze life after a hit of weed.
Racism is just as prevalent as it was in past centuries.
That’s why I keep the four five like Billy Dee.
Philando taught me there ain’t no sympathy for mothers or little girls.
Babies witness executions in this fickle world.
I pray for wisdom, pistols and pearls.
Not the trinkets, but the knowledge dropped by elders.
I hoard it along with lessons learned from my failures.
My daughter is my heart and this is what I tell her: This country was built by us but not for us.
We’re aboriginals, which means no one came before us.
History repeats itself like a chorus, so we’ll rebuild dynasties.
My spirit will be at peace unless needed by my progeny.