Still

In the midst of the strike

I write

I sit here empty

hollow as a rock

placid as a storm

Fighting against the clock

Standing up to the norm

I looked in the mirror

perplexed at what I seen

looking for a shoulder,

I decide to lean.

weighed down by the shackles on their feet 

depressed we had to fight for a woman just to keep her seat

after a long day of work

ending up in jail

dayum what a treat

Then there happened to be a man with dream

A dream we as society may never come to meet

 

Our past is behind me

lurking to bind me

searching to find me

ready to entwine me

 

Left only to wonder

What do you see

When you look at me

do you see a man of color

or 

do you see me as a man

bein the best man he has to be

Do you see a man that carries the weight of his predecessors

on his back

or the tears shed from the pain of his ancestors...

I want to know

or do you see me as man stuck,

with nowhere to go

 

Swimming with the birds

My eyelids meet

I sit here with no words

dead

like a heart with no beat

 

 

Reviews

[Alicia Isabella Lane]

Very powerful, both in the rhythm and the message. It sinks into the soul and keeps us moving to the beat of "The Dream". I loved it. A truly amazing work.

[Cece]

i hear the rhythm
as i speak it out loud
and as i speak it
in my mind's ear
over and over again

[[untitled]]

HA!!!! DAYUM...this is good, so many rhythms you give us here. You begin with story narrative and end with the cha-cha! It is a serious subject matter though and I will treat it as such, with respect. Carrying the weight of your predecessors is no mean feat and most people experience this at some level. The thoughts we have during a strike...too much time to think. Many tears have been shed by and for people of color (your term) I could write a book about this alone. You make your points distinctly leaving no room for query or explanation of text.
Good work...
Helen :-)))))

[PoemRodent]

Well done my friend and hitting a good mark with flow and imagery. Keep um coming....

Great Write...

Dostani

[NJ Schneider]

I loved the beat and rythem it has. Made me want to bobble and rap the words, like slam poetry. Well done!

Much love,

Caine