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Doesn’t it hurt
To feel like this
Am I just a inhabitant
Of this land I was born in
Am I just another being living
Slaving to make enough to eat
Some shit so my stomach doesn’t ache
Do you even care about me
Yeah me
One of your children
Of this sweet land
The home of the brave you say
The land of opportunity
The land where you feed us lies
And expect us to believe it
Am I just a worker bee in the hive of a system
Must I stay in line
And abide by the rules
A system that beats me down to my knees and expects me to take it with a smile
Where’s the equality isn’t it written in fine print
In the constitution
But it’s seem like it’s whited out when it comes to me and anyone else that looks like me
Freedom doesn’t feel so free
In this country
So to speak
Do you hear me
For I am one of your children
That speaking
Are you listening
Probably not
You ignored Trayvon’s cries
Look past Emmet Till’s murder.
Turn your back on New Orleans after Katrina.
Miss America
I am your child
Why do you neglect me
Mistreat me
Profile me
Miss America
I am your child
The offspring of those
You hung on trees
Strange fruit
Blood on the leaves
Blood on the root
The shackles are no
Longer attach to my neck
Hands and feet
But Im still enslaved
Martin Luther King
Had a dream
To tell the truth
It’s still not completely
A reality
Miss America
I am your child
Why do you neglect me
Mistreat me
Profile me
I am your child
Treat me

J.Alfred “Miss America” (National Poetry Month Day4)
04.Apr.14 1 week ago
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