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deepundergroundpoetry.com
We The People
In the heat of the sweltering night
Calm is not my adversary for things of today not set right
Loss in my ancestral plight on a train to find freedom tends to throw my French Creole voice off sight
I am a strong intellegent woman, soft and reminisce for my ancestral scars, yes, I must stand
It brings me to my question, how can any document written by such an intellectual man
Use such an ugly dividing and conquer card as a chagrined underhand
To make a point to showcase where his principles in life really stands
Beautiful gift of words from the mouth of babes
Respect is given, with my creed you always will have it made
Ask the Master’s whip, when he chained my hands, when I refused to cave
Raped me, took my babies, sold my family, and you think this is grand for a road not yet quite paved
An unfounded mental reprimand for a three fifth rule here today has demoted the principles of the constitution
The land of the free and the brave, stated, but not given of is simple retribution
Hidden words stand wickedly honored without any resolutions
I was that slave girl running through that cotton field
To reach freedom before the North Star illumination was killed
1776 stand satisfied of the declaration of its price of freedom given unto you
Society of just has given most their due
The reward for hate rains from the cotton fields of my ancestral cries
Just as if you sing a sweet song to a child as a loving lullaby
Your future continues in their eyes
My legacy so venously stirred, was sold, raped, lynched, hung, and then suffered from heat exhaustion until they died
The doctrine of We The People recite comes to life reminded one of such hate
My ancestral fight for freedom to demoralize or berate
And then what came next, the Jewish Holocaust debate
For a country one may have such a higher esteem for
I never knew gifted minds of 1776 swim against such polluted shores
Satisfied with hatred, hung masterpiece archives, the whips and chains are silent forevermore
For Harriet Tubman that train whistle never sounded so sweeter to conduct as left behind hearts were tore
Calm is not my adversary for things of today not set right
Loss in my ancestral plight on a train to find freedom tends to throw my French Creole voice off sight
I am a strong intellegent woman, soft and reminisce for my ancestral scars, yes, I must stand
It brings me to my question, how can any document written by such an intellectual man
Use such an ugly dividing and conquer card as a chagrined underhand
To make a point to showcase where his principles in life really stands
Beautiful gift of words from the mouth of babes
Respect is given, with my creed you always will have it made
Ask the Master’s whip, when he chained my hands, when I refused to cave
Raped me, took my babies, sold my family, and you think this is grand for a road not yet quite paved
An unfounded mental reprimand for a three fifth rule here today has demoted the principles of the constitution
The land of the free and the brave, stated, but not given of is simple retribution
Hidden words stand wickedly honored without any resolutions
I was that slave girl running through that cotton field
To reach freedom before the North Star illumination was killed
1776 stand satisfied of the declaration of its price of freedom given unto you
Society of just has given most their due
The reward for hate rains from the cotton fields of my ancestral cries
Just as if you sing a sweet song to a child as a loving lullaby
Your future continues in their eyes
My legacy so venously stirred, was sold, raped, lynched, hung, and then suffered from heat exhaustion until they died
The doctrine of We The People recite comes to life reminded one of such hate
My ancestral fight for freedom to demoralize or berate
And then what came next, the Jewish Holocaust debate
For a country one may have such a higher esteem for
I never knew gifted minds of 1776 swim against such polluted shores
Satisfied with hatred, hung masterpiece archives, the whips and chains are silent forevermore
For Harriet Tubman that train whistle never sounded so sweeter to conduct as left behind hearts were tore
Published 6th Dec 2018
Author's Note
Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious people. It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other.
John Adams
John Adams
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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