A POEM FOR MY SONS

Your skin is the most beautiful color of black sand from Africa

and your hair is as wild and free as the lion that roams the jungle,

for truly I tell you that it is indeed a blessing to be born black.

Though some might try to deceive you

and tell you that your blessing is a curse,

and they will hate you simply because of the color of your skin,

I ask that you rise above that hate, as high as the pyramids of Egypt that our ancestors built.

I ask that you face their hate and blind it with the love that I have shown you, for God is love.

Stand beside your brothers and sisters for

United we stand strong but divided you will fall

and when you do fall,

seek refuge in the house of the Lord

for God will strengthen you in grace and faith to complete this journey called life.

Remember that you are a descendant of royalty!

A king in this world, lost without a crown.

May my words of wisdom guide you,

may God’s light shine upon you in your darkest days

and may the spirit of our ancestors that dwells within your soul remind you that

“I am somebody!”

Whenever someone tries to tell you that your black life doesn’t matter!