CRIME IN OUR CITIES ... REPARATION OR REVOLUTION.
Ask yourself is crime in the cities because of guns, gangs, ghetto living and/or discrimination? Are gangs just a reflection of white supremacy? Or is it fatherless families or motherless at home.? Or is it grandmothers raising children they cannot handle? Or abortion not an act of euphonism but desperation of pregnancy out of wedlock? Or deficient schooling by poorly administered educators or uncontrolled school behavior and gangs? What if it is all of these resulting in calls for reparation and revolution.
Is it better to give our fish or teach people, any people, how to fish. That's the human golden rule. Those who earn to learn and have a skill to bill will overcome indifference, discrimination, poverty and ignorance.
Personalized in my poem, My America the Bountiful as the revolustionaries cry for equality and equity as a right: to figth.
MY AMERICA
My America is the feeling of freedom. It’s the feeling good when you get up in the morning and can decide what you’re going to do that day, who you’re going to see and what you’re going to say.
It’s the feeling that you can make a difference. It’s the feeling you can produce your product, you can sell your produce and you can benefit from your hard work, unhindered.
It’s the feeling when you help your children with their homework, so they will be able to use their knowledge for growth, for
maturity, for the good of the country.
It’s the feeling when you send them off to school, knowing they will receive a concerned teacher’s attention, sensitivity and guidance. And knowing as they grow up, they will thrive on their freedom to communicate, to express themselves, to direct their own destiny.
It’s the feeling when they graduate from grade school, junior high and high school that they are taking the steps towards a better life. And when you give their hand away in matrimony, that happiness shall be theirs. For together as husband and wife, they can create the same and even more opportunities for their off-spring.
It’s that feeling when, you can unchain your dog and watch her run free for at least a little while, to watch the experience on her face, when she’s released from the shackles; and the sadness that reappears when she must be chained.
My America is the freedom of choice to buy the bread I want to buy, to acquire the goods I can afford to acquire, to invest the capital I have saved, in ventures I want to take for the good of my family and my country.
My America is being able to communicate in writing, speaking and in whatever form, language takes, my opinions, my thoughts, my prayers, my visions and my dreams to those who want to listen, and to those enemies of the American way who in themselves have not discovered
America.
My America is the blooming rose which has the freedom to grow towards, a clear sky and a warm sun; being able to complete its cycle from bloom to plumage to autumn to a dormant grave, only to rise again.
My America is the personal commitment to pursue opportunities which will better the country and to set an example for those who follow; what you give, must be proportionate to what you take, or the erosion shall remove the sky, the sun, the earth from our grasp.
For in our America and the world resources are limited; the energy, though absolute, is redistributed by our wills. The more astute, the more free we are to create, the better the use of the resources. And left in God’s hands, through our America, we create good will, good products, good people and peace of mind.
My America, oh yes my America, the vision of the poet, the words of the orator and the minds of the leaders be kind, be patient, be wise, but above all be humble to the reasons and the heritage of our freedom. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil ventures and purposes, for thine is mine America as the Kingdom, the power and the glory, forever.
Amen.
