From the heart of the city, I hear a cry
Whispers from African ancestors, urging me to fly.
But my mind is bound, stories I hope aren’t true
About Black contemporaries singing the Blues.
These fabricated stories reach the depths of my soul
Fault The Man for my problems, stop pursuing my goal.
Standing behind my blocks, competitors to my left, right
That goal I stopped pursuing never leaves my sight.
I am that brother from Strivers’ Row
Trying to get there, bask in the glow.
Doing well in school led to lasting success
Graduated from high school, college, to gain access.
Job that pays a livable wage
Neighborhood straight from a different page.
Is this life consistent with my goal
Replacing black with white to exact a toll?
It’s tough not seeing a majority of us
Presence always under scrutiny, causing a fuss.
I am that brother from Strivers’ Row
Trying to get there, bask in the glow.
The woman I love, God’s gift to me
The children we rear, blessed with liberty.
But lost in this transaction is the solidarity
That afforded the Strivers a sense of community.
With you over there, I over here
What will it take for us to sidestep the smear?
Black people are good, Black people are great
Shake free of stereotypes, become first rate.
I am that brother from Strivers’ Row
Trying to get there, bask in the glow.
Copyright 2015. Jeffery A. Faulkerson. All rights reserved.