Assata, Nehanda, Queen Mother, You! ​ Mshairi Siyanda She saves Gracefully slay fear Courage pushing her shoulders back Head up digits of her foremothers Wrapped around each vertebrate Of her spine Wrapped around her spine Wrapped around her spine The sun passing bolts of energy for nourishment She takes a piece and passes it on And on Weaving her blood Sewing love into her Loved ones Strangers even Needle be a string of hair Plucked from her head Iron made Her tears nourish the soil For unborn babies to reap The harvest She fresh Make ya smile and frown At the same time fresh Finger Snapping Can't help but to compliment her Fresh
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By Any Means Necessary