#HiddenFences
Yet Another Example of How We Must Honor the Diversity Within Our Own Stories
We stand stoically
Undeniably the brightest of stars
As their words shade all that we know
Lips pursed, tongues ready
To reveal the mother of all freudian slips
Unveiling the truth of what lies behind our American condition
After all they are their fathers’ sons and daughters
Even while we represent/remix/rhapsody in black excellence
For the world to see.
But why should we be surprised
If they don’t remember our names
When they have forgotten our stories
And the humanity therein for generations
West Coast liberalism doesn’t change that reality
It just exists as a higher, drier, hazier type of erasure.
The type that can’t deny the power of our presence
But feels no remorse in leaving us as Hidden Figures
The mysterious, magical, musical, Moonlight folks
Know even though they won’t always recognize our greatness
How could they and not feel the deep conviction
Of building Fences around our existence as some other type of living
Like our hearts don’t break
Our blood doesn’t run red
Our love doesn’t ring true
Like we were destined to only be on display on small screens
Hustling city corners and standing on auction blocks.
And yet…
While they sleep tonight and dream American dreams
We will stand among the stars
And little do they know
Our eyes are not just watching God
We speak with Them
And act on their words in all their glory.
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