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Monday, January 17, 2022

WE WERE MARCHING FOR YOU





Someday We'll All Be Free
 by Donnie Hathaway









Marching For You



We marched because we had to, son
We were tired of dying slow
Burned and beaten with whips of hate
For reasons we didn't know.

Tired of standing in the back of life
Awaiting the freedom of death
Tired of bowing with downcast eyes
And holding our angry breath.

We were tired of living like cattle
Sold in the markets of men
Cursed with a curse, (not mankind) something worse
When existing was our only sin.

We were tired of working for nothing
Owning no thing but our souls
Watching our labor make other men rich
As they reached, (on our backs) for their goals.

Son, we only wanted what was rightfully ours
A family, a home and some land
To be treated fairly and given respect
Like any other color of man.

We marched because we had to
Through this country we call home
(A million miles from the place we were born)
But to which we will ever belong.

In Selma and in Memphis
In Atlanta, Little Rock
Downtown D.C. and Kentucky
And they could not make us stop.

Many died and many cried
As we marched our way through hell
And what our pain has helped us gain
Only God can tell.

Injustice hides it's face from those
Who dare to shine the light
We marched to show our dignity
And to change our wrongs to rights.

We marched because we had to, son
We were tired of hearing "no"
We fought for the freedom that you're taking for granted
In ways that you never will know.

So, don't scorn these tired and graying heads 
We're feeble and old, that's true
But as you dance down the street to this new century beat
Know this, son, we were marching for you.


















©by Voo
Jan 19, 08
5:37 p.m.



3 comments:

  1. If they could only see us now. How everything they fought and marched against we now do to ourselves. All the Injustice is that they rallied to stop we start in our own leaders. All the tears our mothers cried from outside pain brought in, we now deliver from within.

    Such a long hard journey to be on to end up the hill that we were trodding soo long. Where every voice of a leader that speaks out is as dirty as the sin they speak out against.

    Where can we truly go to be lead? Where can we truly go to be free? When will this regurgitating bile ever truly end?

    Can you tell that I am sick and downhearted? well pull up a chair young camper. Let me tell you a story....

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    Replies
    1. I hear ya, Old Timer!! Let's hear it!!! haha
      Yes, and the thing that gets me the most upset is black on black crime and gangs with their
      driveby shootings killing their own brothers and calling each other the N word.
      I'll never understand that. But then, didn't the First Nation people make war against each other. (except my tribe,
      the Cherokee, who were relatively peaceful? But look at the First Nation people today...many still on reservations
      but they all STAND TOGETHER now.

      Guess what, James? I just sent this poem to the Civil Rights Museum in Memphis, TN and they loved it!
      Hopefully, the next time I pass through there, I will see it framed and hanging on the wall there!!
      Wouldn't that be incredible?????

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