City Hall

I can hear it,
walking down the streets filled with the bodies of the slain.
Nameless
we should be put to shame.
The ancestors' blood flows aimlessly in City Hall.
Past the skyscrapers and vendors
lenders that won't loan love
and I can see the sweat dripping from the building up high
built on bones of those who passed
blood excreting from the grass.
I can hear the voices crying,
for their childrens' lives stolen
stomping up spirits until feet are swollen.
And the trees they speak,
and weep for justice
strange fruit indeed
and the branches still bleed.
The roots they drink from a pond of tears
cried from fatherless children
just look at the buildings!
I hear the whispers
and the energy is thick
energy sucked from my mothers embedded in every brick.
No wonder why I have this connection
windows when I passed bear a different reflection.
And I can see clearly from head to feet
The spirits of the slain
who won't claim defeat.
In City Hall
where the ancestors call
where their blood flows thick in the middle of the street.
The nameless ones
who died for me
who built this town
and died defiantly.
And they shun me daily, and have the gall
to say I'm not welcomed in City Hall.