Black History Month 2

Did you think I wrote a month in a minute Or four hundred years at the beginning of it Do you think twenty eight days is all I need To forget where southern fruits bleed And stain my memory with disdain My life has no continuation All its history being marginalized At the giddy edge of hate I would not want the beginning here forever I am a child of change Your sins have outnumbered mine I am always seeking a new salvation It should be for both of us Because if you are not saved I will sin again Before I am trampled into dust This is not personal now I am too far away from it to feel anger still It has never been personal Color has no personality nor face It is just an absurd marker for race. But read me carefully My meaning is gone to a different place Whose excretion is all this nonsense I taste? I must confess there are ruts of history That would reverse my allegory You knew you had no right to do those things And the gall of it You pepreptuate them still before my face So I am not crippled by a post traumatic situation It is the current toxin that weakens me But I hold to resolve like a rope burning the hand And yet I do not take it personal I have never been lynched Except by eyes that had no white I have never been chased and kill So making is a luxury That get pacified men a noble prize I faced them once And I ran, but could find refuge From this country's towering deluge I am laying down my life for you Because love has no alternative way For a soldier to die away from home For your one day of reckoning It is easy to continue this point of view If my history marginalizes you But you know I have no history now Nothing is left from the past but me Waiting for the peace to come Like a raven cawing