History Teacher

I am me, I am everyone, 
I am no one,
a chameleon without 
a color. 
I have no history, 
I am everyone's history. 

I see Rasta man and 
I AM Rasta man
vibrating to a reggae beat, 
moving past tin roof shacks, 
moving through a sunlit world,
more than happy to leave
my own.

Suddenly I am pulled
to rolling plains
and a sweet water river. 
Out alone, there comes a vision, 
a people stranded
in a winter nightmare of, 
Gatling guns and frozen leaders.

The steady drums fade
into celestial drums and clashing cymbals, 
a dragon dancing, families strong
and celebrating. While in a prison
far away women are forced fed
for defying an archaic system and win. 

Suddenly it is 1943 and here
is where I want to be, 
on Central Ave in L.A., 
in late night sessions with
Nat, and T-Bone and Charles Brown.

My chameleon soul
keeps turning me around
and taking me to sights and sound
that I cannot claim
to be my own. 
I am me, I am every one,
I am no one.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017



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