400 Years
400 years, 400 years, 400 goddamn years
And yet, we are still afraid of the black man
400 years of paralyzing terror hidden behind reasoned excuses and argued logic
400 years of putting the black man in his place against the cold, hard red clay
400 years of hiding behind our cowardly white skins only to protect what we never possessed.
400 years of telling the black man and woman they’re not good enough
400 years of stealing their tender souls and squeezing the god ordained life out of them
400 years of letting their strapping, beautiful gleaming, limp bodies dangle from a frayed, wet rope
400 years of tearing their flesh open against a razored slab of concrete, each precious drop of blood filled with the tears of those who cherish them
400 years of rusted chains and shackles, braided whips, splintered boards and sterile, hollow hot barrels dripping with lost lives of hope and potential
400 years of tears, shattered dreams, devastated lives, unbearable suffering and broken hearts.
400 years, 400 years, 400 goddamn years