Unspoken Word

Took a chance, I had to leave.

Was it a mistake? We’ve yet to see.

One thing’s for sure, I sorely,

Miss you. Miss D.

My mini me. My only.

Swear I cry every time I think he,

Could call another man daddy.

But if I had stayed, and never gone away,

We wouldn’t be free, our future would have paid.

And there’s no bail for this here jail.

Gotta figure this out so he won’t fail.

See it’s hard enough for black males,

When the cost of truth is blackmail.

Then a thought of fighting crime with crime

Cross ya mind, hit a lick, then they stamp you with that time.

You see an excuse. I see reality.

“Just get a good job. Raise your family.”

You’re not wrong. Responsibilities.

Integrity. Accountability.

All of the above makes a good man.

But ignored dreams haunts the man that ran.

My father wasn’t there with a blueprint.

DNA and guilt passed down, so I repent.

Try to walk a mile in my shoes.

That’s all I really ever asked from you.

Communication never really worked with us.

So let me paint a picture with my mind’s brush.

The year’s 2040, D is 22.

He’s working hard, 40 hours, pay his due.

Paycheck to paycheck, he makes do.

Then he gets laid off. Time to start a new.

Application after application. Damn.

He ain’t even get a vacation. Damn.

Frustration mounting, pressure building up.

The world sees another angry black man ‘bout to erupt.

“Work for yourself. Control your destiny.”

But he ain’t have the knowledge, vision, or a key.

Cause see these things are passed down traditionally.

But far too many only see the ends. Money.

Generational curses. Stuck in a loop.

Sacrifice now. Or jump through more hoops.

It’s not about cars, clothes, or currency.

It’s about healing a mentality.

So this mindset gotta be earned, for D.

For he will walk his own journey, like me.