Selma

This Bloody Sunday bled all over the dream I had on Monday for Freedom, my stomach’s growling for it’s so hungry, water hose bruises-n-dog bites, brutal beatings from baton fights, water fountains marked Black or White, Cross burnings, bodies left hanging up all night, the color of one’s skin could cause him his life, so we march for Civil Rights over the Edmund Pettus Bridge, I’ll give my life for a better life for my kids, we stand together, for we stand for something, I’m not free this evening, they lie so much I don’t believe them, we’re still hungry, stomachs growling fighting for our Freedom, fish fried-n-seasoned, this hate we exhale 2 breathe in, I’m not free this evening, they’re liars I don’t believe them, this Bloody Sunday bled all over the dreams I had on Monday Selma, I don’t believe them, stomachs still growling til this day fighting for our Freedom, still being beaten-n-murdered-n-found guilty for the wrong reasons, fish fried-n-seasoned, you’re hungry Selma yes, then let’s eat our Freedom.

This country’s still
Prejudice even with a
Black President we still
Suffer within our skin
-N- within our residence
Selma yes, Selma the days of
The past still exist, so throw
Up your fist-n-make your Freedom exist