The Mystery of Black History... #Poetry

There is a certain truth that moonlight brings/

That truth is as sharp as Valyrian steel/

Sharp enough to slice through a lie/ this particular lie/ you chose to believe just to satisfy/ 

The basic needs of a man’s vanity/

This lie pisses me off at times, but I’ll try to get through this without profanity/

But I really can’t promise that/ so try not to be mad at me/

Sitting in your chair like… Oh The Humanity!/

Cutting through the bull/ SHING!/ and down to the white meat/

Wu Tang Clan/ style exposing a mystery to black history/

The mystery won’t be solved however, by putting a sword through/ or bringing attention to/ specific dates/ of the greats/ that came before/

The mystery won’t be solved by speaking on Africa’s riches/ the exploitation and the way governments thrive on war/

Black history wasn’t a mystery as a youth now was it? An awareness that made us unaware at ages below 5/

So alive/ and unaware of the petty differences/ yet, well aware however of what we felt inside/

We will carve our way down to the roots or should I say reason for the lie/

Which makes folks believe that their skin color is somehow more special than yours or mine/

As if our light doesn’t also shine/ as if the phoenix that burns inside every one of us is not divine/

Like an omnipotent being couldn’t bless everyone at the same time/

Steel sharpens steel / but how could you make that statement real/ If you teach a child to go against what they feel/

Cutting to the truth/ our children are smarter than us/

They trust easier than us/ living more in the now like we should do/

So in truth the mystery of black history is more about the psychology/

Follow me/ a mind that is already young and free/ will enslave itself willingly/ after being taught the thoughts of supremacy/

So if lies are the poison/ and truth is the remedy/ how come there are so many that learn the truth but so few show signs of recovery/

We all know Moses probably wasn’t pale/ but wouldn’t think twice when he’s played by Christian Bale/

How we don’t mind the facts being twisted in big budget motion pictures/ but a black Santa on a lawn would have your neighbors whisper/

I can give you a dozen examples/ with a thousand verses/ with a million letters/

But we all know that wouldn’t make this poem any better/

Sort of like Haethcliff Huxtable in trademark sweater/

Having his accomplishments overshadowed like a major city with inclement weather/

Making the mystery of black history/ less about the psychology/ or how the walls of supremacy were built/  

Some of you may be surprised to see/ that the mystery of black history/ is solved when we accept the truth about guilt/

There’s a certain truth that moonlight brings/ and this truth is that no one likes to be corrected/

Its human nature/ and bad behavior/ but it has to be respected/

Just expect it/ especially from an ego with a vanity mirror pleased with its view/

For if it ever sees a reflection it doesn’t like/ it will pretend not to see/ willing to accept what they know just isn’t true ~

GB