The scariest thing to those with power is an educated Black (Wo)Man. The Black (Wo)Man is target #1. Why are we to be feared, when we have no foreseen power? What about us makes us become the hunted, killed off in the hundreds just this year? Men, women, children, unarmed, while driving, walking, playing, minding their own business end in the same fate. I liken it to the majestic of a caged Lion. Not knowing his power or from which Kingdom he ruled. But, he is lured out and killed just the same so that the weak can claim a trophy of him. Stripped away is his honor, his power, and his knowledge that he was the King of Kings, a master of his own making, a servant to none. These memories are lost to him. It becomes normal for him, the Black (Wo)Man, the lion, the King to accept what is given, to be thankful for scraps, to surrender is pride, his glory, his crown. As generations pass, the old can not teach the young because they too have forgotten the thrown that their fathers and father's father sat upon. A distant memory told to little children like the Tooth Fairy or Santa Claus. A story that sounds too good to have been true that fades from memory once minds grow older. We ourselves have succumb to the belief that we never wore crowns. We've forgotten the struggles of generations past.
The scariest thing to those with power is an educated Black (Wo)Man. The Black (Wo)Man is target #1. Why are we to be feared, when we have no foreseen power? What about us makes us become the hunted, killed off in the hundreds just this year? Men, women, children, unarmed, while driving, walking, playing, minding their own business end in the same fate. I liken it to the majestic of a caged Lion. Not knowing his power or from which Kingdom he ruled. But, he is lured out and killed just the same so that the weak can claim a trophy of him. Stripped away is his honor, his power, and his knowledge that he was the King of Kings, a master of his own making, a servant to none. These memories are lost to him. It becomes normal for him, the Black (Wo)Man, the lion, the King to accept what is given, to be thankful for scraps, to surrender is pride, his glory, his crown. As generations pass, the old can not teach the young because they too have forgotten the thrown that their fathers and father's father sat upon. A distant memory told to little children like the Tooth Fairy or Santa Claus. A story that sounds too good to have been true that fades from memory once minds grow older. We ourselves have succumb to the belief that we never wore crowns. We've forgotten the struggles of generations past.
We've become the caged lion in an invisible fence. We call our Brothers niggers, our Sisters whores, our Children are bastards, and then we wonder why we have no glory or pride?
We have sunk so low as to do the job for them. We kill each other over scraps and territory while the powerful laugh at our disgrace. Not realizing that we are no better then the lion in the cage. Powerless, because we are unaware of the strength that lays dormant. Crippled by our own fear to leave the cage. Divided by the generations stolen away. Yet, the strength is still there, laying hidden, waiting in every muscle of our being.
A lion is still a lion never the less.
Meichell T Jackson
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Aliscia Melton titled From Origination to Maturation A
Transformation in Poetic Form here at this direct link on
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