My heart bleeds for my sons and daughters. My heart bleeds for the lost sons and daughters of my mothers and mothers and fathers and fathers. I look at the exposed parts and the swagger and the long shirts like a nightgown and the hats askew and I weep for the sons of my loins. I look at the tight tight and the low low and the shake for notice and I weep for the daughters of my womb. My eyes scan the horizon and I see the future and I weep for my promise. I turn around and through the ocean of tears I see the mothers mothers who were snatched from their native shores I see their their eyes lower in shame as their beauty in brown and black is put on display and taunted, and I weep for my daughters. I see my strength in my fathers fathers in the wild of my heart land and I see their eyes lower in shame as they are pulled and tugged with chains in front of their mothers mothers and I weep for my sons. I close my eyes and I see the auction blocks and the whipping posts and the field and I pull from the strength of my fathers to keep the beat of home alive in their hearts, the beat that reached my ears, the beat that comforted the mothers and the beat that is now our shame, and I weep for our sons and our daughters. I close my eyes and I look in the future and I see no more weeping I see them standing strong, in full attire, proud of the mothers tears that watered the garden of their promise I smile and say, no more weeping my son and my daughter has learned. They remember and they will wipe away the tears and make no more tears and they build and give and grow and learn and No more tears They will wear pride and cover and walk strong and tall, they will speak with the voice of my fathers fathers and they will love with the heart of my mothers mothers They will make my heart bleed no more. I first wrote this on April 19, 2007 in Lee's Summit MO in response to more news of the killings of black boys and attire of black girls. It was also in response to the misogyny in black music videos. It was well before the first primaries and before Barack Hussein Obama clinched the nomination. It was a prayer and a prophecy. It is submitted here now with hope as we prepare to inaugurate the nation's First Black President. I see a new day dawning in America. I will weep no more. Change has come to America.
©2007 by Antona B. Smith writing as Tayé Foster Bradshaw