How should I compose myself?
Now that you have killed my children,
Raped my mother,
And beat me beyond recognition?
You force me to live in dilapidated housing conditions,
Where the rent is higher than a two bedroom in the suburbs
Yet you pay me less than the minimum wage,
and threaten to take that when I complain.
I am only of value to you with my tail high in the air
So I bend over and twerk some more
Even though I am tired and my feet are sore.

How should I compose myself?
Now that you have taken my loves,
And denied me of my God-given liberty?
I will put on a smile and laugh with my head pulled way back,
Like those high society girls.
Knowing that my anger is powerful enough to destroy.

I will bury this godly rage, deep down inside of me
Because I know you are afraid.
You are afraid that what you have done to me, I will do to you.
You fail to understand the power dynamics in this complex relationship of ours.

You have the military, the police, and congress behind you –
All I have is my God and my hands.
And so with my hands, I will go to my God
Who can handle my anger,
Who won’t force me to be silent
Who listens intently to my cries,
And will deal with my oppressors in time.

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