For the first time I don’t have anything to say
So much unjust in the world and now I’m speechless
My voice doesn’t have the volume that it needs 
Not that I can’t say anything
It’s just that I get so angry I want to ball up my fists and fight
Instead I close my mouth and release the tension from my hands
And I pen it
Creating a wave of “Power to the People”
And “Dare to Struggle, Dare to Win”
My pen flows with rivers of anger and I need to let the world know
That it’s those that turn a deaf ear to my voice
Will read the fight in the pen
Cowards crouch behind pillars
And the ink still finds them hiding behind skirts of their country
The ones that they love so dear
Flying the red, white and blue
While it rejects me and you
Hearing the echo’s from the Atlantic to the Pacific
From the Canadian border to the Mexican border
With the familiar twanging in their voices…
”I’m sure proud to be an Amerikkkan”
“Send them Africans from whence they came”
Some won’t ever understand that it was the African that built this land
Mothers suckled the white man’s young, while she secretly sang Freedom Songs
Needed to run away from the death and destruction of the oil and whip
Heaving the stench from the belly of the slave ships
Shaking off the weight of the bales
That my people forever carried
Needing the healing of the hearts of families bought and sold from each other
Hoping to destroy the soul of pride
Nothing but property, nothing but profit
Nothing but just another Nigger…nothing
Now you see why I write?
It’s my release of the ills of humanity
It’s my release instead of using profanity
It’s my ministry instead of using my fists
It’s my peace as God as my witness
For the first time I don’t have anything to say
So I use my ink to claim my peace
To free me from the anger
That I used to hold within me so deep
Now I shout from the rooftops
And whisper it in my sleep
Letting the world know
That the freedom from my anger
Is in the ministry of my pen’s release