Tags
beauty, black, creative writing, oppression, poem, poetry, uprising, writing
My black so beautiful,
Even through all these funerals
It’s more alive than you,
More spirited than anything;
More woke than your 3-day resurrection.
They’ll try to turn us down. Turn us against each other
Be unattractive to our own
But the ugly is in them.
They tell us about places of graves
Then take us to death.
Tell us to turn it down, or they’ll become [our] deaf(th)
But our life line is still more brilliant than theirs.
While their ancestors are the causes and reasons of why
This world boils in mayhem
We draw strength and courage from the spirits of ours.
So each time we get knocked down,
Our resilience will make the loudest of sounds
Break the ground. Stand back up.
On that same day.
Sircharlesthepoet 