This poem is dedicated to every bkack person who helped pave the way. |
Inspiration seems to flow out of me without ceasing. Baring temptation without pleasure of immunity. Inspired by people of my past, courageous effort was enough for them to last. "Free at last, free at last. Thank God Almighty, we are free at last", were Martin's last words to a segregated community. Without hope, lives were at stake; slave women gettin raped. Black kids forced to lower-class education, while whites got all the publication. Intergation was unheard of until the Board of Education stepped in and took a chance for blacks to win. One woman paved the way for all black people alive today. Rosa Parks made a bold statement, people were watchin, children were in the streets playin. As she went off to jail, she knew things were bound to change even if she wouldn't live to see that day. Phyills Wheatley, a slave brought to America from the outskirts of Africa. Lost and confused, she found refuge in her master's son. His heart she hopefully sought to won. Her poetry startled many, her poetry liked by few. In a time of war and desperation, she knew what she had to do. "I shall be freed by the fruits of my pen", yet her freedom was herself, within. Generations will hear of what their ancestors did and smile to themselves for they willl know in their hearts, without them, we would not have made it this far. |