Tell me
what you see as you watch TV,
is a drug dealer who you really want to be?
Tell me, tell me
if a man ain’t around to water his seeds,
how can a rose grow through concrete?
Tell me, tell me
what you hear as you chill on the block,
to be a hoe is to live the American Dream?
Tell me, tell me
that black woman will still be treated like a queen
because her DNA stems from royalty
Tell me, tell me
what you learned from American folklore,
is it black folks catch cases like colds?
Tell me, tell me
you learned black history is longer than the shortest
month
Tell me, tell me
we’re not ignorant of our history
we’re no longer in chains but a mental head lock
it was once against the law for niggers to read
my nigga, do we read now?
You tell me.
YOU ARE READING
A Walk Through Brooklyn
PoésieA Walk Through Brooklyn is a collection of nineteen poems. It expresses the black experience from the vantage point of an African-American man. The poems deal with self-motivation, love, abandonment, and loss. The pictures painted through words will...
