Dedicated to Trayvon Martin
THAT I MIGHT LIVE
Sometimes it seems as though I am waiting to die.
In the open field, a target for many, shunned by all, but secretly admired.
Forbidden to advance pass any.
Without courage, cowards who stand against themselves dare you to advance
into your creative self.
Those, who call themselves dear, frown upon my ambition,
while I’m apart from the ones who first loved me.
I wonder if I ever come to mind while I’m waiting to die.
JESUS help me see, while I’m waiting to die; see my enemy, as I wait to die.
Feeling like the worst of the worst and not being good enough, but these are all lies.
I must rise past the haunt where they prepared for me.
Feeling boxed into a maze, locked in a cell.
Incredible, are their false smiles the glass ceilings that envelope me.
Like the sunrise that conquers night and as shadows flee into eve.
Waiting to die I’m joined to those who are dying, who have no knowledge of what’s right.
Lost souls hidden beneath agendas, borne by programs that show bloody flesh,
Much blood shall be required.
From the same ones that guarded my advancement. God shall repay.
They smile while smoke ascends in the backdrop; signifying a sacred rite:
a solemn order that turns the rights of all that pursue liberty into a rat race.
I’m running for my life, working daily, waiting to die,
I shall rise while I am yet alive and jettison into a creative realm to assist others.
My fruit shall quench, my bread shall feed and my life shall be as a light in a dark place.
They’re waiting for me to die but not today. Broad is a way but narrow is the way to eternal life.
Where the seeds of TRUTH are scattered, a harvest for God’s Children will be.
No longer waiting to die! Now I Live!