We often cross paths but do not speak I do not know him, but understand my brother is not my enemy I do not know of his pain, but simply know that it exists So we nod
We understand that no one cares for your two cents, when they look through you as if you missin’ two-fifths
Understand that our streets will poor out two more fifths for our sons and daughters today,
But we didn’t put these liquor stores here
Didn’t flood this cities gates with snow But we nod to the “War on Drugs”
When we nod, we raddle 400 years of slavery and those pictures didn’t make it to your Whitehouse
They didn’t quite make it to your textbooks So “eighth grade history teacher” please tell me more about Christopher Columbus but never speak a word of Willie Lynch
Please tell me more of Martin Luther King and who else I am “allowed” to celebrate but never speak of Malcolm-X
Of the Black Panthers
Don’t you know that they are terrorists?
We nod to the “War on Terror”
We nod because some days smiling is unbearable when the corner of your lip is stitched to borrowed cheekbones of unknown ancestors,
I do not know where I am from
But still nod to a last name birthed on a plantation so
Often introductions taste of cottonmouth and strange fruit
They have picket fenced our tounges so let us take this moment of silence
To honor the absence of gunshot anthems and allow our eyes to do the talking Turn our pupils into pupils and teach them the value of a proper hello The delivery of a firm handshake And the peace offering of a smile
Which gives the prelude to the deepest conversation
We never had