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Breaking Amerikkka’s Chains

February 11, 2005


I have been one of Amerikkka’s prisoners for over 400 years,
The blood and tears of my people are her lakes and rivers
She claims to be the apotheosis of liberation,
When, fact is, she enslaved two-thirds of the Black nation,
Plundered the Red man of his land,
And placed him on a reservation.

I can still smell the fresh blood of Afrikans and Natives,
Who died in Amerikkka’s hands, from years past,
Because they wanted to be free.
And I can still hear the crescendo speeches from the brothers and sisters,
Of the 50s and 60s, who vociferated;
“I am man, I am woman”
as they marched in the streets.

Blood shot eyes from cold emotions and sleepless nights;
I can’t recall the last time I cried.
I can’t recall the last time I laughed.
Angry frowns on the faces of prisoners define long life struggles.
Ancient memories as a youngsta.
Warm hugs and kisses from the embrace and lips of my mother.

Screams from new born babies spell revolution
Conscious Black men, driven by hope and rage, in search of a solution,
Generations of young Black males with high esteem,
And dreams of going to Harvard or Yale,
But instead they end up in one of Amerikkka’s prison cells.

Look at me, my face is the face Amerikkka doesn’t want the world to see,
Listen to me, my voice is the voice Amerikkka doesn’t want the world to hear.

Who Am I?
I’m that brother, that Alkebulanian man,
Whose mission is to break Amerikkka’s chains.

Brother Kamau Tebogs Zulu Damali (Raynell D. Morgan) (279380)
Wisconsin Secure Program Facility
Fox Trot 408 P.O. Box 9900
Boscobel WI 53805 USA

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