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
