Fifty-Three Years: The Fate Of A Nation

Voices echoed back and forth upon a fallen dream
They tumbled and rose before the break of dawn
The silence which covered the face of innocence
Gave out a loud cry, which awakened many
Fifty-three years of slumber
This is how long we have been sleepwalking
Great expectation under a false pretense
Misguided hands offering stones for bread
For fifty-three years, dearly beloved
This has been the fate of this nation



Question marks on the foreheads of our children
They wonder if their births weren’t a mistake
They wonder if the future holds any promise
Being born Black isn’t a curse
But poverty could make it seem like one
Wealth, we do have aplenty
But, when would our lives reflect it?
For fifty-three years, we’ve been slaving away for less
On foreign shores
Where nightmares and loneliness abound



For fifty-three years, this nation has been begging
Praying
Fasting
Pleading
Needing
Suffering
Crying
Migrating
At some point, dearly beloved
All this must stop



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