Saturday, June 11, 2011

A POEM FOR MR. SCOTT-HERON...

 If you aren’t having no fun, die, because you’re running a worthless program, far as I’m concerned.”- Gil Scott Heron

Factory Nigger

They never could 
understood
Or maybe never tried
Called you a junkie and a genius
You opened my world through the Vulture and The Nigger Factory
A black man standing in the fields
Unafraid
Struck out on his own
Without apology
Without validation
Fuck 'em for painting you as a novelty
As an enigma 
And nothing more
How painful your world must have been
To be a survivor of the revolution
Waiting in the other world for us to turn our televisions off...

No comments:

Post a Comment