How to Tell You’re Living in Hell
They do not wear a hood
Though perhaps they should
They’d burn a cross on my balcony
If they secretly could
They’re a clique and a clan
And Lord, do they fear this black man
They do not call me nigger
Yet when they see me it’s a trigger
They need a safe space
From the truth of my black face
My words send them reeling
To them, it’s like a thief stealing . . .
Their pride, their world, their whiteness
Me, I gotta find a way to fight this
I know I’m living in hell
But only a fellow warrior can tell
All others are blind—
They think I’m doing just fine
Money, prestige—what’s the fuss
Who ever said integrity is a must?
But if I don’t have integrity,
It’s all a bust
You can always tell you’re living in hell
When it’s your voice white folk want to quell
But you know you’ve found your way out
When it’s their authority you continue to flout
Like a boulder set in the earth, I cannot be moved
Like the promise made from heaven, my hell shall be removed.
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