Measure

Just like a peacock that paces up in down by the water’s edge you sashay up and down my streets…Strutting around like you were the Ring Master at the three circus’s show that had just come to town. You seem to say…Look at me? I’m the most beautiful thing you could ever have the good fortune to see or meet… with your half dressed self and your face painted up like some damn circus clown! You’re one pomp’s arrogant sister that has really lost sight of the true dream…it was not just about equal rights we should all have, no my sister. No not it at all, but it was the dream of a people and not just one man. We as a people all demanded the right to be afforded the same education, the same jobs, the same housing and the rights to raise our children without the fears of some grown men dressed up in sheets trying to scare them from becoming all they could be or want to be in this world. This is why I say to you my sister…Take off your make up of degradation! Take off your clothes of disgrace! Pick up your dreams and rise like the sun! Rise like the beginning of a new day! Be the light in your child’s life and not the darkness! Be the tree that has taken deep root in your family’s life that the storm can’t knock down! Take your rightful place next to me as my proud black Queen of my dreams! Measure yourself by the fruits that fall from your tree and not by the many trees that gather around you to grow in the shadow of your shade.