The Revolution

THE REVOLUTION


My ear is to the streets
Raised voices
Marching feet
The restless cry of the weary
is a never-ending beat
The triumph over evil
A never-ending feat
The spilled blood of black innocence
The crimson red of beets

Put your cheek to the ground
Feel vibrations
Absorb the sound
Sneakers to pavement
Pound after pound
Like African drums
Round after bloody round

Feel the treble
Hear the bass
Keep the time
Step up the pace
The metaphorical march
of a sick and tired Race

It has begun
Wield your gun
The battle has not been won
Shielded in Ephesian armor
Heads lifted to the sun
and Son
Press on for the children
The generations to come

Never accepting defeat
I keep my ear to the streets.


~cdw
03.09.2009