Today I found myself back on the plantation,
Some fail to see the correlation.
They argue that one thing has nothing to do with the other,
But, they aren't a grieving black mothers.
I can hear them thinking, how dare I go there?
The division becomes so thick it cuts the air.
It’s as if I can read their minds.
It happens every time.
So, here we are in the same place again.
In times like these, there is a visible division among men.
As I sat looking at the television with a mindless stare,
I thought, "How can I not believe that this was unfair?"
It seems to be something
Only another black person can understand.
No matter how hard you try to explain.
You are accused of mindlessly placing blame.
It’s the same thing over and over again.
Once again, the message sent is that it’s okay to kill a black man.
Once again, I was reminded that nothing has changed,
That when it comes to black men, justice in our courts is feigned.
It took me back.
It took me back to the days when I watched our people
being beaten and thrown to the ground
Simply for marching to obtain equal rights.
It took me back to those dark nights
when my ancestors took flight;
Running away in fear
As the barks of the search dogs grew near.
It took me back to that day
when Rosa Parks was asked to stand to her feet.
When there was an empty seat.
It took me back.
It took me back
It took me back to the nights of the flaming crosses.
and masked faces doggedly trying to remind us who was boss.
It took me back, back to the days when slavery began.
That’s why I choose to state, "Here we are again."
What I witnessed today was wrong.
It sent a message loud and strong.
So, I stand and state to all that argue otherwise, there is a correlation.
That’s why I say it took me back to the plantation.
It took me back.
It took me back.
Regardless of what anyone says, it took me back.
It took me back.
copyright Patricia Newman-Harris
As Stevie would say, "What time is it?"
As Stevie would say, "What time is it?"