Oh say can you see the
scars from past history,
you so cleverly
ask me
to conceal?
“It’s the past… get past it.”
But you forget, that
I’ve been branded
and every time I look in the mirror,
or see my face in the news,
or my application is refused because of my color,
I’m reminded.
You criticize me for not taking hold of my destiny
But you’re the one who signed it,
“no entry”
and maybe that was over 300 years ago
but what exactly is the time limit
on a sold soul?
Stripes heal,
but brands remain.
and while you claim
you’re no longer playing the game,
the cards are still on the table;
my chips are still raised;
and the rules remain the same;
I’m branded…
like so much claimed property
And as if that’s not enough,
I’m reminded by the limited future
provided to my children
under a society that would just as soon
have nothing to do with them.
By the dawn’s early light
one more bright leader is
brought down.
You used to use bullets,
now inferior social thinking,
does what guns alone
could never achieve;
the stripping of esteems
and the belief that dreams
are best left in beds and poetry.
You see…
I’m branded and
deeply scarred for
easy identification
and mind blowing
manipulation
to keep your cattle in order.
Those that resist are enslaved
or slaughtered
especially since
our value,
has diminished drastically.
You’ve got a new form of cheap labor
overseas
and you really have no need
for me
anymore.
But you don’t quite know what to do with me because
I’ve been branded.
Gold trophy winner
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