the remnants of martins peace died twice in our hands
on pages left unturned
as love was indeed greater than hate
but truth was often ignored
and we marched blindly like prey
speaking of dreams we had never seen
letting them fool us into believing
we had a right to white man’s peace.
asking how high when they told us to jump
thinking the league was gonna save us
some leftovers of this make-believe
we were three times left behind
in chains no one could see.
encapsulated by shame
and these burdens of knowing
he led us astray
guilt hardened martin’s heart
long before the bullets took its beat
he built us burning houses using massa’s tools
left in calloused hands, then given to you
lesson one
we must never mistake our oppressors for anything less than our enemies.
lesson two
fires must be tended to destroy lives
and your hands are coated in ashes and distant memories.
i see black zombies pouring gasoline
on untamed flames asking why it had to be us again
screaming through deafening blazes
that their compassion for our excellence
could save us this time if not the next
while they treat us like dogs and we still asking for polite freedoms
with kind smiles filled with cavities
and evidence that we still can’t afford nonviolent dreams
see i tell you those last pages are necessary reads.
lesson three
Martin Luther King said,
“I fear I am integrating my people into a burning house”
which is why i tell u these truths
lighten burdens of betrayal
as love is made in the rawness of silence and our desperation to be free
free from contradiction and grounded in reality
so please remember
martin weeps in his grave when we speak
of nonviolent dreams turned to nightmares
with which he has yet to make peace