Reflections of My Perceptions

We have got to do better...

We have got to do better
I know we can, because in my mind we can survive whatever
After all, it was our families that were torn apart by stormy weather?
Yet from misery's chains we formed a bond of dignity oppression could not sever
And was it not our ancestors who endured the sting of the slave master's leather?
After 400 years should we not have been crushed like seeds of black pepper?
Yet still we rose up to grow strong like trees with shadows as long forever
So could somebody please tell me why now we cannot seem to live together?
We who were born to soar with wings of ebony feather
Wallow instead unable to distinguish happiness from pleasure
We need a new high by which our lives are measured
We need to realize that our eyes cannot appreciate life's most precious treasures
Yet the ghetto is full of clown princes who charm stiletto Cinderellas
Strippers who are not interested in horses and carriages, nor even glass slippers
But they're blown away by escalades with rims that spin like propellers
So when the clock strikes 12 there she is with her legs up
She's only too zealous
 
And he doesn't have to love her tender
Just as long as he is a big spender
She barely legal, but she loves legal tender
And she doesn't wonder why he's only wants to bump and grind in her fender
She does not suspect that he has his own secret agenda
He likes to surrender his fender when he sleeps with members of his own gender
Sometimes he uses condoms, but when he's high he does not remember
And I'm not here to either condemn nor serve as a defender
But women need to be aware of the dangers of these pretenders
Because as one draws nearer to any one the various black are areas
The billboards and advertisements could not be any clearer
1 in 44 African-Americans in Miami Dade lives with HIV/AIDS, now that's serious
But we have nothing to be scared of
According to the conspiracy theorists
Who tell us that the medications are what we need to live in fear of
While on the other side, those who say Magic Johnson has found a cure, etcetera, etcetera
But the foundation of the black household is under pressure
Adam has deserted Eve leaving her struggling in the desert
So the village burns in spite of her sincere efforts
And the children now think themselves the lesser
Because their fathers don't acknowledge them as heirs and successors
 
So this is my love letter
Because I'm tired of rappers glorifying gold diggers so this for my go-getters
Goal setters, ready to serve as his Coretta if only she could find a King who would let her
But instead she settles for wannabe emperors masquerading in their fancy get up
And I know it's hard for you to lift your voice and sing unless it's Tupac
So baby, keep your head up
Because now is not the time to let up
You're smart enough to know this is a set up
I bring an offering more precious than any stone or metal
Hope, so you know you will no longer have to settle
For a man who does not understand that you and the children are special
Because it's time for us to come together
We belong like the birds and bees, lilacs and heather
Only by uniting can we clean this hot ghetto mess up
So I'm ready whenever you are baby, because we have got to do better
 


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We have got to do better...

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