By Ben Hall, 2014
With every breath I draw,
in sunrise or the moonlight,
a silent fury is rising in me.
Not another drop of my sweat
for the prison industrial complex
A worthless dollar in my bank account
Don’t bother coming to fetch me,
when you rack those soulless mechanical doors,
in your modern day slave quarter.
No quarter will be given
when I come to drop you at my feet
with the dollar in your clenched fist.
Fear is the fire I warm my hands in.
The smoke and hot lead of revolution
is coursing through my veins.
My life isn’t yours to own.
My freedom is a fortress you can’t touch
Freedom alone holds me
like the moon holds the ocean tide
From John Henry to Rosa Parks
From M.L.K. to Rubin Hurricane Carter
To the names of Attica’s fallen soldiers,
etched beneath forced labor’s cemetery stones,
where greed’s masters danced upon their bones,
to Mandela and Albie Sachs
To the miles of unmarked graves
beneath Georgia State Penitentiary,
whose voices…we carry
You won’t silence us Jim Crow
or make us your second-class citizens,
Your time has come.