Wilt Art Thy Brother (Is Not Thy Sister’s Keeper)

Words of disfranchise weighs heavy upon war torn lands
No time in life to point daggers where united souls must come to stand
Kings and Queens with thrones as a sense of honor we must atone
The refection of disunity in the mirror is yours alone
Uplift the burdens of your cause, give it purpose, make it shine

You have yours I have mine
My destiny has been ordained by the alliance of women by divine
I am the bearer, my womb is to give life 
You preach from your loins the fire roaring strife 

I am the neck you cannot turn without the feminism intelligence as being the head
It is pre-ordained
Words to teach, reach, or preach is what needs to be heard after it’s said
There are too many who has a foot on society’s necks
Sheep in wolves’ clothing with revolutionary agendas I hear 
Now place your name on a foundation, volunteer your time in its cause, or invest
If you have not dug your hands in foreign lands
Felt the pain seeping from crackled terrain, felt blood, sweat, and tears
Who he speaks quiet in his oration can move mountains without the capitalization of fears 

Embedding the mind with articles of the constitutions
Have you taken a stance on the revelations or marched for its contributions
Why are you upon the shores, giving less than providing more
Words are a means of vanity when they pour, action speaks louder than words
Without a ship to sail or an able body at the helm
It will always be you against them

Within my presence is to heal, by words, my actions, or by the laws of my degrees
Phrases have never defined the source of endeavors or the minds I attempt to spiritually feed
My political agenda, my saucily cravings, or the taste of my mmm.. or my ahh… needs
Hue as dark as the calling of midnight
I do not have a gavel in my hand, incarceration by time, patting you down, my cosmic observations is not your plight

Admiration comes best for some with no recognition and a closed mouth
Take my baton my brother as I pass it to you and make it fly, run with it, give it spiritual clout
Disparity, the next generation we must reward, were losing the battle from the North, East, West, and the South 
Education of lineage struggles, donations we repay with truth is what this world is all about 
Wilt art thy brother
Is not thy sister’s keeper
Intellects to dishearten who I will always call mindless sleepers

In Loving Tribute to the Mother Who Wrapped My Hair and the Daughter Who Gifted Me Her Headscarf During My Visit to Soweto.

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