When Billie sang about "strange fruit" how many of us caught the truth
Whatever happened to it when it fell from the tree
Was it the thought for little black boys to be all they could be.
How many of us waved from that tree like an American flag
How many of us still wear their racism and hatred like a time-
A fruit suspended in time,
Like the dreams in my mind.
Twisted and imprisoned
But not by bars
Rather by scars.
Issued and delivered: By white slave masters as black
But still I'm here, this "strange fruit",
Yet so few of you accept or recognize my truth.
Sour smell and bitter taste
Swinging as a reflection of your waste, as my seeds perforate
this soil and disseminate in this space, one day vowing
to again rule this place
Like the restoring Phoenix
Flying and soaring, soaring and flying.
But your focus remaining on my black people dying
Does my strength challenge your pride?
Am I to blame for the shame in your eye?
Over the years my character and back have become
thick and covered with this bark.
Growing, springing, emanating from this
catacomb of dark.
My spirit and soul have become as deep and strong
As this root.
My existence giving life to Hegel's
prophecy, my seeds being the birth of your destruction
And mirror to your hypocrisy.
My life, my motion, my swing
in this truth will make you regret ever planting