I’ll marry your men, to learn your ways.
Fool them with this tan skin, slanted eyes and gaze.
A black girl is “cute”, only if she can pass,
For anything other, than that brown gold waste deep in cotton and grass.
Our place is in the house,
But mentality in the field.
Yessa Massa…..Yes Ma’am….is our safety and our shield.
But while you bask in the sultry life of greedy gain and wealth,
I educate the mind I have and get what I need for myself.
I’ll speak your languages.
I’ll eat your foods.
I’ll become the cultures you’re in…..
Absorb the info that you foolishly give,
So that my people can win.
I’ll birth your babies through anti-propaganda,
And guerrilla war formation….
Raising another well-informed,
Bi-racial generation.
Forget Willie Lynch,
The tables have turned,
Because our women are becoming soft spoken…..
Slowly speaking, fast to listen,
Knowing wisdom is our strength and token.
Cream, brown, caramel, black, tan ………..
Our colors fuse together, and together we take a stand.
Our men are strong now,
They understand…..
That vulnerability makes them great.
Talking instead of holding it in,
Mental dysfunction no longer a trait.
A son was born,
A half black boy,
He walks this hateful earth…
Learning from a hybrid woman,
His purpose and his worth.
He is learning his LANGUAGES
And taking a step,
To one day lead another revolution,
The worst thing you could have done,
Was reveal dividing solutions.
I am passive when I need to be,
and strategically aggressive.
So much, that even those who hate me,
Say that I am impressive.
So keep sleeping now,
As I continue
to Embedd these words into your soul,
Through repetitive words and messages,
That are,
Subliminal.