THEIR WARPED THINKING


today they are at it still
chasing after the whirlwinds
trying to run away from themselves
deaf to the waves of emancipation


still thinking white is right
bleaching the ebony skin
wallowing in murky self rejection
aping the oppressors still


attaching horse hair to their heads
running away from knotted, kinky hair
seeing beauty in pencil thin bodies
rejecting the corpulent afrikan fullness 

forsaken

out of the ten lepers
just one came back
came back to thank the lord
healed of that nagging ailment

that was a son so divine
you don't doubt my immortality
what did i expect
when in the end they crucified him

the story was better with the robbers
the final score was fifty percent
cursed by one, praised by the other
the story got better in the end

the blindness you call sight
shitting and pissing in the well
tomorrow your thirst you quench
quench it at the same well