The Sorrow of Black Men


 

 

There is a sorrow of black men

that runs down the spine of me

that intertwines within the heart of me

when you are hurting

working

to find your truth

without me

 

you’ve been taught to doubt me

and i you

as we love in this place

branding each other

with hot words

metaphors

similes

i like you as

i love you like

i’ve been taught love is

beating you emotionally

and i beat you cause i love you

see me loving you to death?

trying to revive you within your last breath

i have been afraid to look into your eyes

denying you your place

has never been my intent

when you are gone

i roll in your scent until i smell you in my skin

the sin has been

that we have learned to be apart

learned to wear the mask

dance around the truth

 

we run from the possibility

that we could find God in our connection

this is the sorrow of black men

drowning in incubated tears

i am here my King

we shall not always sow while others reap

 

you won’t always weep without my arms for comfort

self-medicating while i was dedicating myself to

something

someone

else

 

there is a sorrow to black men

who feels so far away

today

i proclaim

i love you

 

i love the me that rest in your eyes

i swim past the tears

go against the tide

until the undercurrent of your ability to love me

sweeps me away

carries me today to an enlightened existence

you aren’t alone anymore

and i hate that i want to love you

and cannot

because maybe you have not un-learned the lesson

how to deny me

hunt for my tears

desensitization

 

 

today i miss you

everything you are

and not

i uncover the plot

to obliterate

our future

this interruption of this dance

it must begin with me

because i’ve seen for too long

my hurt

my dismay

translate to my boy child

who’d prefer wild to mild when loving a woman

because mamas are supposed to cry

i have drawn the picture

with the way i have loved you in the past

there is a sorrow of black boys

who become black men

who drown in immaturity

from not being able to cry

i know

you may think it emasculates you

i do know

we’ve been taught to have children & never marry

i carry that pain on my soul

but the harvest has come

we are the ones

our time is now to love

we will not always sow while others reap

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