If I knew what I was doing?
As if my thoughts,
Could not produce my deeds.
As if my efforts,
Did not match where I lived.
Since I was born and lived in the ghetto.
And I should not be aware or know,
Of those things I did!
As If my blackness was for them limited!
Like it was for friends I had,
And some relatives.
All believing then I was trying to be white…
And not the black neighborhood kid!
Who did for me,
What I knew was right!
They believed I should be,
That kind to clown and be down to Earth.
And not have a mind as creative as mine!
With dreams to fulfill…
That broke down barriars and walls,
Others believed I existed behind!
And not to know my own value or worth.
Or reach for heights…
Few I knew took effort to climb!
I was asked,
At a time…
If I knew what I was doing?
I am not asked ‘that’ question anymore.
Today,
Some try to downplay…
My affect!
But I had always known,
To be grateful to be blessed.
And let God handle the rest!
I was asked,
At a time…
If I knew what I was doing?
Of course I knew.
From the very beginning.
But the few who did not know…
Now they do too!
And nothing has changed…
From where I live,
To what I do.
And that is a fact…
Hard for them to believe!
That I can say who I am.
Be who I am.
Stay where I am and know it!
AND achieve!