Nuyorkican inspirations

I keep the records of these heartaches hidden in pandora's box
deep in the caves of my womanhood
barried in my silences and my selfless tendencies
brown skin washes clean but never enough
I always feel the mess inside,
the grim that builds leaves trails of oil across each smile.
I cave in for you.
Breathe in toxic waste just to leave you enough oxygen
i eat scraps to feed you feasts
and starve into an empty well just to hear you call me beautiful





All these brown people
Nuyorkican fools that title their lyrics as poems
stories that have been redone and are replaying day by day
the subject of white and black race or mixed heritage.
You hear about the slave and the master.
the chains that lock their bones into place
echoes of their ancestors
they scrape up dollars from the gusters
Each person that speaks believes themselves deserving
to be the next prophet of the people
we have all seen this poverty
we all speak of the men behind the curtain
we all know about crooked police
and the system robbing each person of color of their dignity.
So many of us have seen jail,
harassed by authority figures.
we all know this yet, only one woman spoke about Oscar Grant.
We talk about our oppression like it is written in a history book
with no substances.
I need solutions, people.
Speak so your words become actions.
All these brown people speak their stories in details,
in between the lines we are all the same.
We are united in the cause but we don't know where to stand.
I want a protest.
Something enough to make us all scream
because it is the same history repeating.
i hear you saying something
familiar.