1800
Before marooned, I tuned my lips to blow the clips of the cocoon,
The deficit of the motherland or the idol worship of the Martin Luther King stand,
A warship of tyranny never producing God’s prophet,
A continuous film overexposed with critique options,
As the air clears the water dimples from film,
Lags in their defense, offense in their bibs,
Against all odds how can I just let u walk away,
Leave me without a trace, as a man stands as a soldier, ready to dumbfound the race,
Is this my leader,
The one you tell me to call daddy,
Is he really able to guide me from the obstacles of tragedy,
Was this the man consoling Ma when dad was taken off the ship,
Or is this the tragedy Ma reeled about when I departed her lips,
Nonetheless, the escape to be greater trials the whole race,
Sacrificing courage for a young dinner plate,
It could go on,
No power other than the push of brother,
Wisdom left to decide,
Me or him or roll with Gunner.
