Greeting Card Maker | Poem Art Generator

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Malcolm X
It is not as simple as merely changing one's name You must understand the cauldron before that came And the hustler's hair caught fire burning into red anguish And the water is disconnected to out the wish Something about a mother's prayer and father's faith Like all the islands were one Caribbean state Jamaica and St Kitts came together beautifully in his fate I mean the old Garveyite dead upon the track's wrong side And from his Nebraska to Michigan the fire follows and chide Those admitting schools where a child's vision died. Wait Till the latch is pulled on the city's yawning gate. Here Behold the child crushed into streets by livid fear ii So Malcolm by way of Michigan from Nebreaska came Flesh "red" with fire, eyes knotted with black desire I mean nothing to aspire to better than a street name A pimp, a runner, a hustler and only addresses retire From New York to Boston the criminal element slithers. Through windows widowed of locks, and doors deprived The white margin keeps the black space in small fetters The heist hoist him over the humped wall showing real Chain this time and literal boundary for a black dream Religion is borm always in our stillness, bringing zeal To transform our weakness, and in his a eyes a gleam Making name and nature one in Islam's deep embrace. Prison begins for Malcolm the new prosedy of the race. This gentleman and a scholar, this soldier strongly suited O glorious comes morning after pilgrimage of night And through its light this self-made man of sin uprooted Was Africa's apostle articulating her children's plight. So brother Malcolm, like a native prince valiant and bright Took on the citadel's of false history, and with all still Stoop and lifted sultry minds of sable children with might And with his balm of words O mended their broken will Could you have seen him compared with himself in the fifties Could have sat and listened to the legal logic of his mind Humbler and humbler he became, a pilgrim in the sixties But after the firebombing you know death is near behind He then like his father forewarned came to their end By tragedy, and for such only the great ones God will send.
Copyright © 2020 David Smalling. All Rights Reserved