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.