A poetic reason for blacks being conflict hungry

This one man’s opinion but I think the mindset follows as such….

1700s to 1960s – Every damn day I’m in the struggle. For my mind, for my culture for my nation for my family.

Mother fuckers don’t give me a break. The whip and chain didn’t break me I survived my language. My traditions nearly lost to me but family and loyalty. I will have them again. I will build them anew. The stories carry on in my blood.

I got to be on time. I got to be dressed for success. I got to on my game because Boss is on his game. Boss is looking. He’s looking to see is that violence in me. Am I prepared for work? Will I show up like Leroy – 5 mins late in Tuesday – 20 mins late on Wednesday – ain’t showing up at all maybe on Friday.

You see I got my skin folk putting in the extra hot sauce to the wings of conflict I have to endure. I endure. I am on my game. I got to raise my family. I got win against my ememies. To many pitfalls laid for me. The media hounds me, the government whips me. I survive. I will fight on.

1980s to present day

Where is the fucker? Where is the conflict? I can’t breath without it. There’s trouble some where. I got to find it to be at ease in this fantasy of comfort and entertainment.

Calm waters? No there ain’t no such thing. My blood is boiling. My ears are alart. For conflict and war. Bring it.

It’s to easy. I don’t trust it. There ain’t no such thing as easy for me. For my kin folk. For my skin folk. It’s trouble and readiness.

I need it. I need a fight. All my life. All my fucking life is a fucking fight. I accepted it long ago. Now where’s my enemy?

Pause in the play of words and life. For a question of my own for myself.

When do I feel most alive? In the conflict of life’s challenges. When I embrace it. When I welcome it. I feel most alive. I feel. I feel like I am….

Connected to an ancestor who endured worse shit and became great because of his struggles I am here today.

Times are different. Yet, I feel stronger not from being at ease or at peace. I feel stronger from combating life’s struggles, from putting my back at the freezing wind and standing.

This is the legazy handed down to me. Conflict is the sweet air I breath. I am at home and most comfortable striving against an enemy.

For my ancesters it was society and depictions of dancing fools labeled as Blacks and government contracts out for his life and nation. The fucking ride began at fucking birth.

For me it’s government forces out to keep my mind inslaved and willing puppet skin folk out to do white Daddy’s bidding for some cash and ass. It’s my own depression. It’s my own woes about being pussfied for to many years on lies….

But. I am awake now. And I want to fight. Luckily me I have to many opponents.

Warm Regards


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