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When I wrote this piece 6 years ago, never did I fathom the significance of what the 50th anniversary of this heinous act would mean. Rest In Paradise Dr. King, this is for you.
Waking up this morning; God it's good to be alive,
I've worn the soles out on my shoes to see my peeps survive,
the racism, the hatred, and the evil deep inside,
the hearts of some Caucasians in the 60s; still we strive.
I'll introduce myself; for short they call me MLK,
which starts with Dr. ends with Jr.; for peace men shall pray,
and women too; please kneel and bow your head or raise your eyes,
to God I'll share my state of mind that faithful day I died.
My life was documented well and people know the cause,
that's civil rights for all, the violence stalled; please, no applause,
when Rosa wouldn't move from out her seat and get it off,
that bus Down South like Frank and Stoney; Lord we set it off.
My people just got tired of that treating us like slaves,
our equal rights for anything were buried like in graves,
discrimination rampant in this country like a plague,
the diff'rence 'tween the races flip the moon like night and day.
I chose the route to travel on; protesting with those folks,
who felt the same way I did; in those days it was no joke,
especially in Southern states where coloreds had no hope,
progression wasn't fast enough like action in slo-mo.
I took it to the nation's stage; for people yes I speak,
racism's death I seek; it seems like God just blessed my speech,
from DC down to Mississippi; didn't have it clean,
they sicced those dogs on us with hoses; still I had a dream.
We gave the opportunity to make them take it back,
and marched through towns where blatant racists spit the face of Blacks,
it went like this for years; shed tears for friends and enemies,
'til March of 1968 in Memphis Tennessee.
I joined a strike of sanitation workers who in fact,
were fed up with their unjust treatment; all of whom were black,
once that was over then I left; came back on April 3rd,
the crowd was at capacity to hear me say my words,
at Mason Temple, World Headquarters; Church of God in Christ,
I looked into the eyes of those who hurt so hard from life,
in getting there to speak that week endured my flight delayed,
t'was all due to a bomb threat and it had me quite dismayed.
In talking to those people tryin to will the doubt to stop,
I spoke to them of how I'd journeyed to the mountaintop,
if I had known that it would be the last speech of my life,
I would've spoken of my kids and how I loved my wife.
Fast forward now to April 4th; my comrades know me well,
I'm booked inside Rm. 306 at the Lorraine Motel,
it's 6pm; that's Central Time and I mean on the dot,
at 6:01 I hear a pop; oh no Dear Lord I'm shot!
I'm outside on the balcony that's on the 2nd floor,
I heard one shot then nothing; now I knock on Heaven's door,
they came to try and help me; Jesus Christ what game is this?
They point to where the shot came from; it's now a famous pic.
Time passes, I'm in surgery; they open up my chest,
the bullet pierced my right cheek; broke my jaw and broke my neck,
my jugular was severed; heart massage to no avail,
five minutes after seven's when I died so go and tell.
They rioted in cities 'round the country in my name,
I understand that folks were mad but wallow in thy shame,
I got a semi-holiday for some to celebrate,
imagine if I would've lived to breach the Devil's gate,
which you know as America in 2012,
these streets that bear my name emit a thousand sounds of hell,
with babies having babies; gangsters bang out in the club,
guns fired indiscriminate means innocents get slugged.
It should've gotten better on the day I passed away,
that play in '68 is now Assassination Day,
with husbands goin crazy; killin' off the kids and wife,
and it is for this ignorance I had to give my life.
©2012
