Barbecue If Ya Please

Not everything is happy-go-lucky with July 4th’s history (Poem).

The 4th of July is kind of like the NBA Finals.

You know, it’s Game 7 and teams are battling it out to be crowned as the champions, to be victorious.

In this nail-biting Game 7, imagine if the away team wins the championship at their opponent’s home court.

It would feel like a slap in the face for the home team and crowd to watch the winners celebrate on their own turf.

That’s kinda how I imagined the celebration of the 4th of July was back then.

The U.S. declared independence from the British and privileged Americans celebrated in the victory of achieving freedom — all while black men and women watched on the sidelines in shackles.

So what’s up with that?

The holiday of family barbecues, fireworks, scared dogs, And of course, American independence and “freedom.”

Freedom to say “All men are created equal” If your slaves are subtracted from the equation.

Freedom to whip the backs of the people who Built the land credited by the white man.

Freedom to beat down the people who Gave flava to your bland food for your family barbecues.

Freedom to pop off your fireworks As each boom is a spit in the face of True American Freedom As the oppressed huddle in the corner like a scared dog questioning:

“What the hell are y’all celebrating for?”

Freedom to sip on ya iced teas stroking your ego, Bearing the power to tell the black man to get on his knees And follow every order you please.

Freedom to laugh in the face of colored liberation Under a blanket of fear Knowing that when the shackles come off, Jim Crow laws will serve as Halls for your cough until the segregation stops, Another dose for your sickness while the colored face the wicked.

With the spoils of freedom black folks couldn’t enjoy.

With the spoils of freedom that we will never forget.

So kick it back with ya family And barbecue if ya please, Just don’t be fooled thinking that America was truly free

Happy 4th.