Heaven is at full Capacity

Occupied by shortened lives, lost dreams, heartless tragedies

Parents burying children seems to be societies norms

Blacks killing Blacks

Never mind right from wrong, It’s the strong who live long

Weak gone

Soon as the dust settles on the guns that were drawn

Call me irrational, Even Crazy

I sure do long for those days of slavery

Minus whips and chains, long days on the plains

Love to have my shirt soiled brown from growing grains

Rather then soiled red from holding a loved ones remains

Imagining how it feels working as a group in rags burying seeds in the ground

As opposed to looking my best while watching another casket go down

Slavery symbolized blacks together fighting for one another

Freedom was gained now we kill each other, disregard for sisters and brothers

Never once have I dreamed so bad it cost me my life

Martin Luther King died for us, Put blacks as a whole before his kids and wife

Seeing the world now, guns, knives, personalities cold as ice

I wonder if he would do it again if given the chance to dream twice

Could I survive slavery?

Maybe

Next time you hear a mother scream “MY BABY”

Think about what I said

And you tell me if i’m still Crazy