I cry for my people who are among the living dead
The last words of Dr. King are still present in my head
I witness so much talent and promise within the youth
I wish they would stop receiving the lies and fully accept the truth
The truth of our people are embedded in our roots
Sometimes I think stereotypes and deception are in cahoots
The youth are told that they are nothing but waste
That garbage they pick up; they tend to embrace
I know that the children are our future, because Whitney told me that
More African Americans are graduating college and that is a fact
They try to put us behind bars to set us back
They try to remind us that life is not fair and that we are still Black
Black is beautiful and black is proud
But why does negativity attach itself to a black cloud
I heard about the blood and I see the tears
When will the hate stop and the pain disappear?
Why do we not see more Black leaders at the top of their game?
Are we known as just athletes and not for our brain?
Why do we allow society to script who we are?
Instead of us taking the lead and setting the bar
Where is our hope and where is our pride
Whose hands does our future reside
Does any of these words resignate
Were our identities assassinated at the Lorraine Hotel in 1968?
Did we lose direction in 1965 where X marked the spot?
Is that the same spot Brother Malcolm got shot?
Do we even know who we are anymore?
Do we even care to explore those that came before?
A youth without hope is one of my fears
A potential lost of a race is the reason for my black tears
---Michael Lafears, Jr