Generational Damage

Due to old racists,

I was raised to present many faces

to the world –

each one appropriate

for the times

and places.

Told I was only allowed to be myself

inside of safe spaces

because it might hinder my progress to be honest

about who I am.

Not that they don’t immediately see

in front of their eyes another black man.

No,

the goal was to have me be perceived

as different;

not like the rest

of these angry street gorillas

beating on our chests.

The propagandized King Kongs

with our giant ding dongs

out to ring the bells of their

precious

fair belles…

False narratives culminating in the demise of

Emmett Till.

You see,

they believed putting the average American at ease

was key

to a black male’s survival,

having lived through the times

when we were strung up from trees

and hunted down in the streets

by mobs with rifles!

Images seared

in the collective memory of themselves

and their peers.

Bygone,

but legitimate fears

they thought wise to instill in their children.

With me,

they didn’t understand what they were building –

an often cold

disconnected soul.

Fragments of a man

self-taught at appearing whole.

Even those who’ve known me the longest,

whose love for me is the strongest

have never held all the pieces

to my puzzle.

-HymnAgen