The Shabazz Poem
(TheFan(NJ))
On 05/19/2007 was Malcolm Little''s birthday, he was born 05/19/1925 in Omaha, Nebraska. TheFan an upcoming writer is going to tribute sunday a day after his birthday to Malcolm X Shabazz.
The Shabazz poem!
Days arrive, years pass
when Minister Shabazz
walked the earth.
The revolution was the
teaching for the youth,
children had something
other than a dream to look up to.
We was brought here to live the
life of poverty, create a world that
kills young minds before they grow.
Malcolm always said,
"We didn''t land on Plymouth Rock,
Plymouth Rock landed on us."
Some people say one man
can''t come from the mist of the
earth and lead people with the
power of the mind.
Malcolm may have been
the greatest Negro mind
of his time, his words were
powerful, his words created
his reaction. I sit in a clouded
room with wall of scripts written
from lonely schalors.
Imprisonment in the mind creates
characters bulit to lead. Faith wills
the heart to post under those scripts,
as the light of fright crescent your
mind for a nightly fight.
My mind, My power,
My Heart, My will,
My rock.
I am Plymouth Rock.
The waiting turns to passion,
the words bring satisfaction,
while your heart becomes
a replica of your feelings.
The walls are your narcissism
of teaching as you create
a world simular to
The Plymouth Rock.
My mind, My power,
My Heart, My will,
My rock.
I am Plymouth Rock.
Your will is a bona-fide mission,
where we confide in the words.
Words that bring infidel feelings
to a fidelity of scripts on a wall.
They say those words are to
affidavit youand you must
write back to continue
fluctuation of words.
My mind, My power,
My Heart, My will,
My rock.
I am Plymouth Rock.
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