The Dream

Location

70129
United States
30° 5' 22.2864" N, 89° 49' 54.3828" W

Others get that rhythm that untold song and
Although the beat is loud
I can hardly hear it coming
The little girl praying for her daddy
To come home can hardly be heard
over the barking of those dogs sent to our homes to
contain the peace and pursue the violence
That’s when he comes in
Talking his civil rights
not knowing that his civil service
will never be needed,
here he comes with his head held high
and his arms strechted out wide and for what
so the white man can own it
so they can claim it and sell it like cattle at an auction
standing next to a slave
who’s only hope is their god above
who can’t stand to see the sight of his children being beaten
but what can he do
one day he’ll whisper,
he’ll hold their hopes up
so that one day
he may send a prophet no, not another Isaiah,
Jobadiah or even a Jacob
but a Martin
the prophet couldn’t stand to see this
Deformation of my character,
Your character, our people’s character, so
He sought out for change
For a chance
For an ear to listen
My people why can’t we listen?
Listen, to that voice.
“Darkness can not drive out darkness;
Only light can do that.
Hate cannot drive out hate;
Only love can do that”
This is the chant of a distressed Negro
A Negro that let freedom ring
For Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of happiness
His plan, strike out oppression
To revive us from that current recession
Of faith and love
To be remembered 48 years later
And yet
“We must face the tragic fact that the Negro is still not free.”
Why?
Because we don’t believe
In the dream.

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Glenda_Middle

This poem is dedicated to the Civil Rights movement.

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