By Kevin “Rashid” JohnsonHow does your celebration relate to me?
Confined in a concrete box—can’t hear, can’t see
My life is solitary
How for me is this day honorary?
Or let’s go back to its origin days…
As your forefathers proclaimed freedom, mine were their slaves
Centuries later our status ain’t changed
Dark skin still in chains ain’t that strange?
As you shoot off firecrackers fire your guns
I’m reminded of my ancestors on the run
Fleeing plantations, hounds, rape, chains and whips
Today it’s prison buses, yesterday slave ships
Transported far away from loved ones—forgotten
Locked away until our minds are rotting
This is the history you want to whitewash and erase
The theft, lies, savagery you’re ashamed to face
Land of the free, home of the brave?
With a quarter of the world’s prisoners—modern day slaves?
A declaration of freedom, now as then how you lie
Millions of us still in chains on your Fourth of July
