Erasing My Words

One day I wrote of the hardships of being black, spoke eloquently of the passion that drew me, the love that knew me, and even spoke of all the flack...I had to take in order to make a point living in this society that will never embrace me. Someone praised me for my boldness, another quietly patted me on my back. There were even a few murmureres who couldn't understand my need for justice if I was living the American dream. Why make waves they said? Why? because it's the right of every individual to express those issues that are important. How many men and women had to die in order for me to stand and speak the truth. Even though it's my truth, its' your truth too, you just choose to beleive the lie. I can't. I can't sit idly by watching a whole nation of people die to their own ignorance. So they sought to stifle me, but taking my printed words and handing them over to David Copperfied so he could ultimatley make them disappear. I will still speak, and although those words are gone, I have more. The revolution may not be won with me, but I will die fighting for it.