The Grace Of My Race Poem by Aziz Baako

The pace of black race is laced with God’s grace,
It is amazing how we escaped disgrace
And years of degrade of our race.
I was near tears when I reflected the years of fear
In our minds that kept us behind and blind.

One time in a multiracial community
I was consumed in a fine rhyme
Of Hip hop lines filled with crime
Scenes created by the system.
Miming some of the fine
Lines that told our stories in anthems.

Then a young blonde woman looked at me with remorse
As if what she heard about our bonds are just rumors.
I am an American I hear The African has no honors?
She said with the sympathy of an ignorant being.
I decided to aid her with the information of our being.

I told her about how long we have been here,
I told her about the great years of Imhotep,
I told her about Memphis being the name
Of an old city in Africa
Before she was called
An American and way
Before I was called
An African.

I told her about Ethiopia and the Arch of the Covenant
I told her about the cold years of Alexandra the Macedonian.
I reminded her about the effects of slavery
And told her finally that
The pace of the Black race
Is laced with the Grace
Of God the Creator