Inherited slave Spiritual mask of those of unconcerned individuals that has shielded themselves from the cannons of battle that was rolled out from the shed of hidden darkness with strengthen fields of its weaponry but not that of conversation. As we moved ourselves with exceeding smoothness downhill rolling and making paper money to be spend on unnecessary things and no recoil of retribution. Sweating droplets of inner blood which no one could foresee falling upon the cobblestone of today's' life from that of the past. It was the Christian pastor drumming out the beat after beat as he drilled his thoughts deep into our heads as we turned a cheek a cheek a cheek. Could I not achieve my youthful sentencing of a life so well scripted out as if it was an Egyptian mural spread across the wall of some great king buried site in the Valley of the Kings so long ago? Will the life of previous times encroaching their laws of hands being cut off, and tongues being torn out with the grip of powerful hands. Some kneeled in repentance of their attempt to castigate the laws of man, inflicted on the innocent. It was countries to country we ponder towards of trekking motion, making sure we never cross the road of the despot who rules our everyday life. Will the religious men step out-front and mandate new laws to save the people of the day. If we gained the country will we be unmovable frameworks as we stumble with an exposed knife stuck in our back from an unseen attacker that we didn't know or hate. Will there be shelter for the downtrodden as they move in their apparel of a derelict movement to toward their freedom.
All we wanted was is to be able to till the land and keep the profit for ourselves without anyone directing our passage. Roughness of the land barefoot as I'm moving among the gravels that housed spirits of my ancestors, the splitting of my toes as I walked softly upon land hoping that no one would notice that I was shoeless. It was enough to know that someday I would be appreciated of my deeds that set my nation apart from all the rest. We moved in a blinded eye destroyed by a hateful person who wanted to take back our freedom and the sake of all those who believed. No longer would our ancestors be considered contraband by another person who image will show up in the history book for years to come. Gather together we will smell in our nasals that of roasted pig barbecue moving cross the swelling roadway, keeping that connection between us never to be broken. But the new day has arrived with highwaymen of modern days waiting in the crack of the wall, as we turn our backs because we feel free. But they will hide and sneak around waiting for the moment to leap upon us as if they were a cat, ready to destroy its prey. Did we not know of our ancestors the hard land that they separated with only a knife and the bending of their knees and enduring painful, painful pain that they carry so deep in their knees to their future generation? Be silent be silent my child god is listening as he prepares for our freedom to move through the landsides of America. We laid out our lives to be recognized as a people and challenge this way of life. It is the suspicion that awakens me daily from the most beautiful dreams that I will never retrieve. Suffer no more for the world will rise up against oppression by any individual who has made himself the defender of life.
Muffled sounds from the distant screams that will never be allowed again upon this earth. Mankind will not permit any dictator of the past and those of modern times to raise their hands in an attempt to grab the fruit success from us. Barry S Allen Sr. February 21, 2011
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