Talk of emancipation and of freedom, from one thing or another seems to be the topic of interest at this point.
But, are we really emancipated or are we still slaves?
Slaves to our emotions, the very rythym of our hearts, the constant thud of music, or just the thought of breeaking away.
And what happens after? Or is it that there is no thought of after the here and now?
What happened to the real meaning of being emancipated, of no longer being slaves?
Do you really know what a gift you hold, more valued than riches and any amount of gold?
Where you stand and who you are, were fought for with blood sweat and yes tears, enough to fill an ocean.
So as I sit here and look to the darkened sky, I reflect on an age when my emancipation was just a thought,
When cotton picking, and sugar cane cutting were the order of the day.
Then I sit and smile, smile at who I am and how I've gotten here and I know that I am truly emancipated.
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