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Sitting here on the dock
Of the bay of mind
With my feet hanging
In the waters of memories—
Conjuring thoughts
Of the remaining struggle—
Thoughts flowing in the canal
Between desired hopes
And reality’s truths;
So much to ponder looking
Out and into wrinkling waters
Waving and frothing life’s shores
With the dampness
Of determination’s ship
Waiting off-shore
To be anchored at the dock
Of restoration—to be scraped
Of corroded apathy
And rusting will power—
There to be re-plastered
With renewed courageousness;
While sitting here on the dock
Brings awareness, such is useless
If incapable of impregnating action
And giving renewed birth to the journey;
The psychology of the knowledge waters
Of cultural awareness is one thing;
The sociology of such waters is yet another.
To act as bad as you think you are
Is one thing but to be MJ bad as…is another!
Now I know that just sitting here on the docks
Won’t bring the struggle’s ship to shore;
I must get up and dive into the waters of reality
And swim out and give battle to the surging tides
To bring the waiting ship of our liberation to shore!
