Red-clay Smother the grooves On the souls of my shoes. Housed feet run For lives bound By inverting time. Ducki'n and Weav'in Exceed'in the Treason, Chas'in me. Foreign objects reveal Identities chopped & screwed, Through lame remixes of humanity. Dom struggl'in to be free Crisp eyes, dark skin, and beautiful white teeth Channeling black beauty, as Authenticity speaks. She say, " I don't wanna run no mo!" Four-hundred AND One, is a long time, Ankles swollen, legs tied. Hope marry's math Reflecting fear To pant disgrace. Teaching fake news Exposing oppression schools, Intermingled in public. Molotov's aim Extinguishing pain Unreachable, in the womb. Fuck these dirty soles! Souls dried up in Red-clay, Enduring tests of time. By: CeeCee R.