Fifty-Three Years: The Fate Of A Nation

Voices echoed back and forth upon a fallen dream

They tumbled and rose before the break of dawn

The silence which covered the face of innocence

Gave out a loud cry, which awakened many

Fifty-three years of slumber

This is how long we have been sleepwalking

Great expectation under a false pretense

Misguided hands offering stones for bread

For fifty-three years, dearly beloved

This has been the fate of this nation

Question marks on the foreheads of our children

They wonder if their births weren’t a mistake

They wonder if the future holds any promise

Being born Black isn’t a curse

But poverty could make it seem like one

Wealth, we do have aplenty

But, when would our lives reflect it?

For fifty-three years, we’ve been slaving away for less

On foreign shores

Where nightmares and loneliness abound

For fifty-three years, this nation has been begging

Praying

Fasting

Pleading

Needing

Suffering

Crying

Migrating

At some point, dearly beloved

All this must stop

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