Damaged black men pt.1

Fellas, we have a problem
We come from a long history of damage and destruction of our own kind
Stemming from the days that they locked us up I. Chains and forced us to pick cotton
And fight each other
And beat each other
Stemming from the times that we were tortured in front of our sons and daughters
We are damaged souls
Ravaged throughout the history books
Our humanity stripped from us with blood and salt water
Forced to dance and prey for forgiveness
Our man hoods ripped from our very hearts and placed on display in some dusty trophy case
We are damaged men
Since from the days we were slaves
It trickles down in history to the times of segregation
Where we worked for low wage and beaten if we were out too late.
We were never taught or treated like men.
Love was our enemies disguised as our friends.
We are damaged men, ravaged through history only trying to make a living
And attempting to make amends for the sins of our oppressors
We’ve struggled to stand on our own two feet
Meanwhile attempting to balance a country while building it
Oh how many times we’ve fallen on our knees
And beaten to get back up and keep working. No matter what time in history we have never been able to hold our own two feet,
And we’re supposed to believe that if we work hard enough we can live the American dream
Forced to turn on our own people is ways we cannot fathom
Our unity defeated
We are damaged throughout time,
And forced to become blind to the horrifying things society has done to us
Because we cannot pleas we need help
We cannot make them think we are weak
We must be strong
For our kin
To hide the pain from our oppressors
We cannot show emotion, no pain
No anger, no joy
We must fight for our lives and even that has been destroyed
Even today, we’ve lost our concepts of love
Because it was never instilled in ourselves
So as we stare in that mirror and see who we are
We are damaged men lost in time, the pressure of communities and families on our backs
Like the scars from the whips our ancestors wore so many moons ago
It reflects on the ones we love,
We cannot give them the affection they wish,
Because we’ve been soul searching for decades for ourselves
When your will has been stripped from you it’s hard to believe there’s one in anybody else
When your dignity and respect has been torn from your life how can you give anything to anyone else?
We as black men are fighting an uphill battle
Trying to be seen as men of society and not menaces to society
Attempting while attempting to make a living,
Being seen as a monster before a human being, where can we go where we aren’t “ preying” wheee can we go to be us?
To be human?
To be free?

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