Black America, we are Depending on you

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I am a Black Man living in America and my future is uncertain: not because I had not planned f or the tomorrows, but because my future is being planned by someone else, An Angry White Male!

I was made to feel like a little child. I should not worry about from where my next meal is coming. The Angry White Male has already decided if how when and what I will eat. He would decide if I should live in a nice neighborhood, or one that will reflect my interdependence on him.

Even the clothes I wear, the music to which I listened, the car I should drive, or the friends with whom I consort, all laid out for me.

I should have no control of my destiny! This is the America in the life of a Black Man.

The Black Man should have no thoughts for himself. He should think Only of what the Angry White Male decides is best for him.…

So he will make changes complimentary to his own desires...

The Black Man wants to set his own mealtime. He wants to eat when, where and what he fancies. He wants to live where he chooses, and consorts with whomever he desires, and no one is going to be directing his thoughts, senses, emotions and livelihood.

For over 450 long hard and challenging years, the Angry White Male has attempted to control the fate of the Black Man. He has in his mind how it should be, and has planned and outlined the outcome of the Black Man. He took him from his natural environs and placed him in one that is hostile and cares nothing about him, but to have him under perpetual subservience...

It has taken the Angry White Male years of manipulation, sacrifices and time spent to have it that way, and was not expecting any meaningful resistance or opposition to his program, so he is caught off guard when the Black Man begins to exercise his expostulation, and letting him know he will no longer be a pawn on his chessboard of tractability.

I am my own man. I am a Black Man. I come from a long line of creators, inventors, a bloodline archetypes; engineers, scientists, literary scholars, mathematicians, builders...

I am loving, I am caring, I am loyal, I am smart, and I am strong, and it will take a force much greater than yours to contain me.

Your Anger will not deter me.

Your acts of barbarisms will not humble me.

Your wealth cannot indulge me because I own more than a herd of cattle on a thousand hills.

The gold you think you have hoarded is mine to inherit.

The lavish homes you built on a hill, surrounded by gated iron fence are mine to occupy.

You will be only here for a short time.

Your span of rule is at an end...

And mine is on the horizon.

A Pissed-Off Black Man is moving forward! He has progress on his mind.

He sees the life that has so long eluded him in his peripheral; with stark reality of hope and freedom.

… America, humanity. You can hear the drums beat, you can hear the timbrels sound, you can hear the blasts of the trumpets, the reverberations of the bass. The pulsating strumming of the guitar. The concordance of harmonic voices shattering the torments of your soul.

The Symphony of the Black Man has Arrived!