Black Poetry : The Drum Major (Feelin' MADRAPPER)

Heartbeat

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Jan 30, 2001
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As if the spit in his face was not enough
Called everything but a child of God
A bullit traveling the path of hate
Found the great man on a hotel terrace
Hate
Such a lingering menace
But as the Poet reminds us
The band of equality didn't die that day
Just the drum major

But in our hearts and minds
He still steps tall
His whistle still heard
Following his gold baton
We move onward
Forward
Marching like we need to
As he inspired us to
Free at last
Free at last
Thank God Almighty
We're free at last

BE

*Thank you MADRAPPER*
 

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