Ancestral Hope

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And through the lands their souls broke, shattered and scattered slave children old enough to work  were bought and sold for the sake of trade.
Today in the Hoods across America scattered children still cry from broken and shattered souls & homes.
They roam.
Hoods with teenage littered front stoops & school yard benches cloaked in hopes and dreams of better days and better ways
Just the same as their ancestral slaves
On plantations filled with songs of sorrow and strength
They sang songs to the beat of sweat drops on soft cotton.
Tear drops the heart of the melody.
From then to now we silently cry.
From plantations to stoops, to back yards and garages
We hope
We dream
And we pray
For one day
A better day
Another day
In the Hood.

-Jay Dee