Our tongues are no longer our speech
Our actions are no longer our results
We are no more
We are african american
Colored 
Darkies
Coons
The descendents of slaves
Shouting back to africa
When we’ve never set foot on shore
Correcting those who are “sellouts”
They aren’t black enough
Can’t pronounce native terms in native tongues
They aren’t one of “us”
They are to be forgotten
Burned in revolution’s fire
We do this in united mutiny
Turning our backs on those with no voice
to spark their own embers
We have forgotten to grasp their hands
Hoist them to the rafters
Forgetting their voices need to carry
And that those who speak the loudest
are not always the one with the most to say
Everyone is not meant to be 
Assatas
Hueys
Martins
Malcolms
Rosas
Some are secondary
There in the shadows
No glory but glorious in their own right
They are to some degree what we are meant to be
We are turning the ugly head of discrimination
toward them in the name of all we fought for
Become revolutionaries in sentiments
And speeches
And sedimentary stances
Actors with no actions
We have become comfortable in our second class roles
Enough to divide into we and they
Those who are the struggle 
And those who are the bearers
of that which we try so hard not to have a part of
We claim to be the children of bloodshed
The children of those who marched and protested
Of those who faced the brunt of gun butts and dog teeth
But we display the characteristics
of those who caused our former generation’s pain
We are racist
We are prejudice
We judge those around us based on superficial means
They don’t have the right hair
because silky tresses skim their shoulders
They are the owners of designer clothes and fancy cars
And all that is the american dream
And they aren’t good enough
They are they
And we are we
And there is no middle ground for us to meet
So we separate
Divide and conquer ourselves
We are the downfall of ourselves
The killer of our dreams
The last line of our defense
And the first cause of our failure…