All things are not what they seem to be.

For instance, what do you see when you look at me?

A “Black” male, mind steeped in criminality?

But all things are not what they seem to be.

For instance,

What does my mama see when she looks at me?

Her man-child, now fully grown; decades have passed,

I still ain’t home.

Lost in the cycle of poverty and prison,

Somewhere I went wrong, but she asks where did she?

Still, things are not what they seem to be.

For instance,

What do the illegitimate authorities see when they look at me?

Inferiority, something less than them,

A commodity–for explosive exploitative industries to profit from,

A colonial-subject–one to be examined, misused, and disposed

Of by bars or the gun;

Yet still, many cannot see things as they are

And not what they seem to be.

We still ain’t free; look clearly and you’ll see

Forced dependency.

I charge the imperialists with “criminal conspiracy.”