Lineage
my weary heart knows this is going to hurt
our ancestors, our sons, and daughters too
I feel the fangs of dogs ripping their shirts
the hoses of hatred drowning our roots
the hats we wear those imperial crowns
will silence doubt and reveal our lessons
to fight on both legal and sacred ground
the art of war with non-lethal weapons
should we stand still and simply bow our heads
believe our woeful lot better than some
let us not pause to weigh what they have said
spirits of freedom might deem this loathsome
their words, their blows will forever be flung
we of color must never still our tongues
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