By being real,
I mean really, real!
With harsh truths that need to be freed from our fragile lie,
It is easy to say, or see "thugs", "punks" in the streets of BWI!
But as I remove my eye from looking to weak,
and look from within at human torment,
I see a generation lost.
These are just scared kids!
By in-large they are alone,
fatherless and some homeless,
But all in pain,
And deep seeded need.
What a joke to hear "land o'plenty" while on a bleeding, bent knee.
They are a generation lost upon the sea,
A ship sailing in the dark,
With no port to see,
No destination to guide with faint distant light.
The cities are tinder boxes of oppression's disenfranchised youth...
looking to be heard, in the follies of the absurd.
Where do they go?
When will we lend an understanding ear?
or what do they say when it finally hears...
DO you want the answers that they live?
The reply given in reality with the caps flying from a nine?
Weaving and dodging all the god forsaken years.
As any kid will do,
its the best they can do.
In the freshness, the excitement,
They rush like a river broken free,
from the walls of opposition,
that was holding it back,
not only with our words, like "Your fenced off from that"
but also in action,
Cities full of scars.
We must truly see the system is rigged from them to me.
Never really thought much about it,
We all know how white and easy answers can be,
But lets get real, fanning the fires flames,
is all they feel.
Burning them insane!
The failure is now upon all of us,
my people, our time,
Our clock just struck twelve!
Not just the white and black men,
But also all the others on planet earth accompanying with them!
The black brother must acknowledge, how they let the child down,
while the white man acknowledges that we pushed them even father around.
In the end..... we both let everyone down,
and then never came 'round!
Baltimore the city just showed up to say,
Get you acts together,
And start building docks right away!
Make no more haste together,
Get your kids to the harbor,
Now! Start today! Because you've wasted all the tomorrows!
As my eye is father opened,
What if that was me?
Who spiked a pillar in a sandy spot out to sea?
So I wrote this up,
Where I started to say,
resolute on the matter,
that just maybe,
we can build a dock together and get some kids back safe,
No more black or white pillar,
just one great giant dock.
My safe American Family!
Complete with an anchor and the rope to adhere,
courtesy of The Poet Mike?
I do hope you all really hear.....
Copyright © Mike Liquori | Year Posted 2015