Like Chocolate Do

He runs a race

With his chocolate face,

Where people value chocolate most,

When chocolate stays

In chocolate's place,

Where to take a peaceful stand alone

Is insubordination,

And commerades fall to incarceration as he questions each day he survived the first strike,

Tasting the toxic waste of bias

Till even his thoughts begin to stink,

And his brain starts to think

That it feels like home to suffer and burn,

Like a hater in waiting for the season to turn,

And the creature he becomes disgusts you, frightens you,

One man's failure is another man's friend,

And then they wince with false innocence saying,

"How could he come to such an end?"

But in Jesus, a brotha can overcome ya,

It arouses you like chocolate do,

And irritates those with a sense of entitlement,

Lighting up the blind spots that guarantee the have-nots

get a damned good shot at living in poverty and violence,

Till chocolate gives up,

Says it feels like home to be locked up,

To be punished for the autumn of this filthy adaptation,

For striking back in wild frustration at the miseducation he was first disposed,

Stabbing himself with the first tool given,

Stoned and owned by mushroom conditions,

Needing more faith, and a little less wishing

Cuz in Jesus, that's how chocolate rolls