I pray for a voice,
I pray for the key that lets my people live;
All we ask for is a change,
But our hopes and goals are still shackled in the back of the bus,
And for every Rosa who parked in a seat up front,
There’s a lynch mob coming to put dream speech away.
I pray for a voice,
I pray for guidance
We just want real freedom,
There’s no desire for our 40 acres when we can’t walk them safely,
There’s a need to march for in justice, because we can’t walk in peace,
With the police, jury and the news, who’s fighting for us?
I pray for a voice,
Because we seem to be unheard or unwilling to talk,
Maybe its because our people escaped and stayed in silence,
Or because when our King spoke up he was shot down,
But “mute” isn’t an option anymore,
Someone yell “Let our people go!”
I pray for a voice,
I pray for our generation,
You see, we haven’t used the railroads since Harriet,
Yet the world keeps trying to put us underground,
When will young black kids stop becoming hashtags?
When will we stand and say “Let our people live”?
Speak up, so we can live!
As an African-American, I must commend you for writing this poem.
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