untitled

I feel like I’m not being myself sometimes
Are you listening to me?
I feel like I’m not being myself
Born a Christian boy turn a Rastaman
But as a Rastaman it’s hard for me to be myself in this house of bondage
I talk reality and they charge me with uttering seditious speech
I guess the world is better off when I glorify lies and despise the truth
I smoke the herb
Yes, I smoke the herb that you say kill the brain cells of man
But for me it’s a religious experience
And yet I still make the poem flow like so that it hits your mind like sea waves swooshing across your back for a massage
Babylon patrons are the majority and debate how the world turns around its own axis
Turns like the hands of time on a clock-----tic-tock time ticking--- that tries to brainwash me into their European acculturation or else I am out of order
Good or bad
Victimizer or victim
Oppressor or oppressed
Either or Ither
Am I the odd man out?
Or am I the man who is out to beat all odds?
Still thinking if my sanity is worth losing most of my friends and almost all my family
Trying to influence me to think that I have a problem
Wait!! There’s no problem with me
There’s a problem with you if you can’t accept me for who I am and respect what I believe in
You who call me threatening
You who class me as a rebel because I say the things you want kept unsaid
You who look at me and profile me from my color and not my content of character
I will be influenced by no man
By no propaganda or persuasion
If it is not influenced by the King of Kings, Lord of Lords
Jah Rastafari
You will not confuse me
I know who I am
I am being myself
People, I am being myself
For I represent the red ova yellow ova green- - the purest form of life
I represent all who are oppressed
I am the voice of the voiceless- - the master
Aye Rastaman Aye what you say
I am what I am
Respect me!!!