This Sunday Morning

Dr. King once called Sunday morning the most segregated time in American Christanity..I would now add, perhaps it is the most brainwashed time in African America thus I wrote in my poem This Aint Prophecy

And it’s uncanny
To say the least
But I don’t get it twisted when I see the beast
Because I know its now no longer men in sheets
That are the sole source of our grief
Our city streets
Are terrorized by red and blue beefs
And 100 thousand saints on Sunday
With their bibles, faith and belief
Don’t bring peace
But get fleeced
Because apparently Salvation ain’t cheap
Even liquor stores, pimps and hustlers find it hard to compete
With a misinterpreted scripture
That keeps a nation asleep
We worship the lamb
But bow down like sheep

I wonder if the objective
Of the pastor’s directives
Is to maintain a slumbering collective
You see
Penitentiary minds
Distorts our perspective
And though its been suggested
But not requested
I wonder if
Our own 9/11 would bring us justice?
Or as Richard Pryor once said
just us
But we have 2 much reverence
And show too much deference
To do any thing that would stress em
Test em
But god bless em
We’ll be brothers and sisters in heaven
Rignt?
But it’s the heaven on earth that we ignore