lifted measure one

sometimes it gets hard to lift

something must be shifted

can’t go on this way

even if youre gifted

can’t drift in the game

twisted i insist i get a grip

i know the story flip the script

stealing my soul chip by chip

i want to let go just a little bit

but here’s the trip

somebodies got to take the hit

take the light and refocus it

find the path and keep it lit

can’t let go not even a little bit

never the destination its always

the trip amo dry almost there

can’t slip blade sharp

i got to do my part

sometimes it gets a little hard to

lift put your shoulder to it

after a while you barely notice it

many before us

lived and died like this

something must get shifted

put your back into

we can get there from

here don’t slip get a grip

let’s lift this

About Ayodele Nzinga, MFA, PhD

I create; therefore I am.
This entry was posted in Black Arts, Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to lifted measure one

  1. I don’t know how many times I have to say it so I won’t repeat it again. The problem is everybody wants to “get paid” no one wants to do the work, no one believes it can be done. Like the prophet said they all want their ears “tickled” not the truth. Unity, togetherness, pride, justice, peace, anger, sorrow, weakness of the soul tired of fighting the fight. But, is it a fight or is it the inability to look within and see the truth—our problem–self. Self awareness, the willingness to admit our “sheep” have gone astray, unwilling to follow the holder of the staff into safety? All chiefs and no warriors.

Leave a Reply