4th Of July, They Say Poem by Tyrone Gayle

As my African skin unifies with the unlit environs,
A thought presses my wrinkled mind like seven irons,
The dark skies serves as a stage for the dancing glares of light,
Enchanted with various colors, sizes and designs just for tonight.

Unfiltered excitement has been sprayed wildly in the air,
People with joy pinched on their faces are inhaling its fumes,
That's amazing because some of them are not from here,
But they are apart of this land for their respective flowers now blooms,

With freedom to harness their skills and gifts due to this Land of Opportunity,
So for a lot of people it's more than just an annual fireworks activity,
It's a day of heartfelt appreciation when hands are supposed to be clapping high,
And voices roaring with meaning, 'Happy 4th of July! '

BRAYNK! BRAYNK! BRAYNK! BRAYNK! !

Aawwhh, ha, dreams, for on that day, the life of black people did not matter,
Sweet freedom was a long distance away, we were grounded, we wouldn't have met her,
Oh, am I implying we have? Well give me glasses, if I don't see the sophisticated chains,
And please ban me from putting stanzas like these together on the buses and trains.