Emanuel Jones

Rookie (1987- / Baltimore, MD)


Poem by Emanuel Jones

Matrin Luther King Jr. had a dream he said,
That white's and black's would all hold hands,
But that white man had a bullet for Martin's head,
Distroyed his whole plan,

They say racsim is dead those days are done,
We's all treated the same,
Shit'd they must think i'm dumb,
Like I don't know the game,

You's give us guns you's give us dope,
Lock our fathers in a cell,
We hang each other with that same rope,
You's once tied your self,

Well you's gon' need some new bed sheets,
And horses' to,
'Cause we's ain't gon' be beat,
By the likes of you,

See i's 'member dem' days,
Way deep in the field,
My brother tried to get away,
Messed 'round got his self killed,

The only way,
Those days be forgotten,
Is when you's push my hay,
And pick my cotton,

Now I's ain't sayin' I's hate you's folk,
'Cause hate just ain't my thang,
But I's sho like to grap me a rope,
And watch a white man hang,

Dedicated to: Great Grandma Mildred


Comments about Racism by Emanuel Jones

  • Ronald Stroman (3/8/2007 2:11:00 PM)

    that's racism and one doesn't need a dictionary to know it.(Report)Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, March 8, 2007

Poem Edited: Friday, January 28, 2011