Freedom is Slavery by Taiina Ayala

Freedom is Slavery

(Merriam-Webster) Slavery: submission to a dominating influence

We stomp, we yell, we beg, we plead

To have our rights is what we need

We scream, we push, we cry, we fight

We become strangers when fallen is night

I know the cause for which we fight is true.

But still, why, oh why am I still so blue?

I’m fighting for what’s right, we are people too

Without freedom, what can we do?

But what does freedom give in return?

This dim light, it seems so far.

Will we ever know what makes it burn?

Is it worth the bodies covered in tar?

We give our souls and we give our lives

While the ones in power sit like Queen bees in their hive

 They don’t seem understand

That our world’s future is in their hands

We have the same lines in our palms, same nails on our fingers

Like a bad taste, this hatred lingers

The same nose to breathe, the same mouth to taste

And all that stands between us is our race

I once had a faith in the world, I know I did

My mother used to tell me as a kid,

“Tomorrow today will be the past”

With just this thought, the possibilities were vast

I pictured myself walking to the corner store

No fears in the world is what I had

The thought made me radiate, I smiled until my mouth was sore

With this thought I could not be angry, sad, upset, or mad

I’ll send a letter to in the mail without any trouble

My kids will go to an excellent school

The positive possibilities will more than double

No colored man will ever be thought of as a fool

We give our souls and we give our lives

For these stories, once told by our mothers

These dreams we have must survive

People are all the same, no matter their colors

But do we really give our lives for this war?  

Or are they bought and sold?
What do we get in exchange for our lives? Money? Silver? Gold? 

For something to be sold, both sides must benefit

But the racial slurs, dirty looks, and dead bodies seem to be infinite 

And in this scenario what do we get? What is it for? 

No, these things are stolen.

Stolen like a slave’s soul from God.

Our lives are stolen from us for something that can be so easily solved.

My need to fight for what has right has become swollen.

Imagine a world where all who breathes are equal.

Will I finally be able to go home to my family in peace?

Will I finally be able to answer my child’s question,

“Daddy when will racism cease?”