Brotha's And Sista's

CATEGORY

just different

   Brotha's, your supposed to find the Queen in a Sista, not

the mean in a Sista.

   Sista's, your supposed to find the King in a Brotha, not the 

mean in a Brotha.

   Both wandering lost in a foreign land.

No crown, no tribe, no rings on each others hands.

   Bed hopping, while offsprings of creation cross haired

for the repetitive plan.

   Genocide, as the breath of excuses spread the flames 

lika a fan.

   Burn baby burn, no estinguisher, while the others 

clap hands.

   Broken since the days of picking cotton, and 

whipping commands.

   Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, from the truth denied.

Finger pointing instead of conjoining to override.

   One has more than the other, what happened to no man

left behind.

   Coloreds Robbing Individuals Melanin Enriched defines 

black on black C.R.I.M.E.

   Once upon a time, unselfish sacrifice for love, education, 

and family would come to provide.

   A pillar of freedom, in which we now defecate upon, and

leave on the roadside.

   Awaiting the slow torturous demise.

Soon the stinch of decomposition will show bereft leadership

is unwise.

   Alluding to the matter of black lives.

A subject of contravention, in which should come as no 

surprise.

   Writing a fixed to the wall, since the day we arrived.

Yet still, no one understands why there are tears in my eyes.

   Weaknesses overpowering ability to regain control of

our lives.

   Brotha's and Sista's, are chains the only way we can

be unified?