I ride on the back of the wind song
My wings are the overworked arms of slaves
And the accomplishments
Of nappy haired scholars which scar
The lives that Americans hold

Hollering FREEDOM
Into dead silence
Deafening cries of my people
Dying at the hands of hard work

I can only wonder
When will I fly again?

I ride on the back of the wind song
With my soul crying in jazz tempo
With tattooed arm and eyes glued on
The promise of better tomorrow
And suns that glow
Cleared polluted skies

My heart beat slow
As to not wake up the demons
Below the concrete surfaces
That keep them trapped beneath
The inner city

I breath in the city air
And I wonder can I find
Any evidence of God here
Of a fair chance
Of my life

Even though I might be wife
I feared to be mothered
Because the hate of this world
Might smother my seed
That will destroys
The evil that plagues
Ghetto

I write verses down
Longing to be home
In Africa's arm
Mother
One day I might know you
Mother
One day I will show you
That your tears are not in vain
And the children
Of the forbidden
Have not forgotten
You comforting
Night skies

America feed us with
Lies
And I' am tired
And
Bound by the
Fear of stepping in to the
Booby traps
Of fearless
Bounty hunters

I long to feel
Brooklyn's wind again
And taste
Manhattan struggle
Or maybe see faces
Of my Black Americans

I ride on the back of the wind song
Searching for my home
And I find it
Somewhere
Between the lines of poetry
And the lines of the bank
With my people cashing hard earn checks
I find it
In the eyes of brown babies

And in that they find
In imagining
Better worlds
That they may never
See

In the ghetto
The cries of mother's
Outweigh
The sounds of gunshots

We search for out drug addict
Family members
Searching for God in a glass pipe

I ride on the back of the wind song
Chanting
The prayer of the Goddesses
Now I wrote my Freedom Lyrics hopping to be heard