My wings would be a mosaic
made of black mothers’ pride
They’d be boomboxes for justice
Amplifying the riot in our souls
They’d be instruments
Of destruction
Burning monuments to make room for equal testaments
They’d evolve into the freedom to live unaccosted and to die avenged
They’d be bullet proof
and resistant to hate
They’d span from the Middle Passage to Miami
They’d lift our heavy hearts
and their downward thrust
Would scatter the white ashes
of false supremacy
~Rahk