Black Man Down

Oh so strong and so powerful black men, where are you?

Beyond the confines of prison yards and grave cells I cannot see.

On the high hopes and constant disappointed hearts of mothers and wives you dwell....

Each with such a dream, a pondering illusion of your valiant prevail.

I see your shadow beneath everyone, positioned low and on the ground.

Omitted from time, from space, and from present history, I wonder if you can even see it.

A grandmother’s prayer, which everyone knows moves mountains, will transition you into kings.

“Oh Lord come see about my boy” she prays, while “Have mercy Lord” she sings.

Deep down inside resides the strength to build world dominating countries.

With the mental capacity to do twice the same hidden behind a troubled past and present.

Better still your future is not yet written and you can make your mothers’ proud.

Start by plugging the ears of convention as the sounds of drugs and gunshots ring loud.

I’m certainly no grandmother, but I pray from the depths of my soul.

As I see little young black men play on the playgrounds of their destinies.

Victim or perpetrator, not a one of them escapes unsullied and pure.

A mother’s tears for her son’s fate against the odds is too much for me to endure.

So here and now, I pledge my personal dedication and devotion to finding a much needed cure. ………..A much needed cure.