Animal

I am not an animal, but the leash is pulled ever tighter. I can think for myself, yet they say my brain is a dark void. I have the power to feel and love, and they label me soulless. I earn my way honestly, yet I am worth less than nothing. The hands of my fathers stained red; my ancestor’s eyes emptied of tears; my people slaved for this freedom. Was their sacrifice in vain? They say we’re too different, I couldn’t agree more. But in my eyes they’re the animals, the ones who belong in the cage. I will not wait any longer; my voice will rise above the fist that attempts to crush my spirit. And the day will come, when the tone of one’s skin Is not a reason for judgment, but a means for celebration.