Monday
it is
Monday
it’ll be
Till
Tuesday is here
And
then we’ll see.
Tuesday
will roll around
For
those hours and minutes
We’ll
live and breathe
Knowing
that life has its limits.
I
like ritual
I
like rhyme
Does
that make me strange
Most
all of the time?
I
like predictability
I
yearn for sameness
But
when I get bored
I
feel my inner lameness.
How
does God make us
All
of us interesting people
We
live and we yearn
Both
citizens and illegals.
Black
folk
Light
skinned and dark
White
people
Carrying
the mark.
The
mark of what
Is
something to ask
The
ownership of all
In
our own truth we bask.
Nobody
died
To
make us king of it all
Just
trying to get it right
This
side of the fall.
Amen
Let’s
begin
Lay
aside that sin
Just
wondering when.
Redemption
is the story
And there
we find the glory
Repent
of our collective sins
Yes,
those that are pretty gory.
American’s
original sin
A phrase
too riveting to grasp
Stolen
lives and stolen land
Wrong
enough to make our souls gasp.
Stolen
dreams
Stolen
schemes
Ripped
away family and kin
Yes,
our original sin.
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