The Cost

A Poem by Asante

Something about the costs of our civilizations...Freedoms...and belief that we are superior to one another

'Everyone dies,They lay everywhere
But have any of us cared?

Once we were slaves
Tied to our master
Then 1 white man broke the plaster

We thought we'd won
We thought we'd free
Yet to know our freedom came at a fee

Still after the emancipation
We fought for our rights
Those claimed through the Independence Blight
But with a century past,We stayed stuck in the same spot
Not able to move according to the white man's plot

The system has changed
Although no longer public
Our bindment is still arranged
Controlled by men who would be called rustic

Now we're here...2015
But has anything changed?...Is their slate wiped clean?

My brothers lye dead
With the felons still at large
But instead of the KKK
it's men driving police cars

When did this start?
Where did we go wrong?
When Great Britain decided they were King Kong

They enslaved many of a people's
Leaving no stone unturned
They and their counterparts are solely responsible for when the world burns

They've done nothing to make amends
Nothing to make up
They will do nothing until my brothers wake up

But really can we blame them?
Are they descendants of Cain?
What becometh of those of Seth
They who still remain

We continue to abuse each other
When will it stop
Only when there's no more cream of the crop
No more middle men to fight their wars
Only the Young and old left to even the scores

But still then
bitter as we be
We will fight to avenge who has fallen at the other man's feet

When will we realize it's a endless cycle
An endless cycle of Hate
When will we remember how many lives it's taken to sate its demonic taste

We need to wake up my brothers
We need to save the human race
Save it from its own extension of hate

But fight not only for humans
Fight as well for Mother Earth
She has done nothing but care for us since birth

Until the time arises
I the Seeker seek a heavenly sleep
Wake me when it's ripe
To save us all from the death grip of Time