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(A poem by Assata Shakur)

They think they killed you
But I saw you yesterday,
standing with your hands in your pocket
waiting for the real deal to go down.
I saw you smiling your "fuck it" smile,
blood in your eyes,
your heart pumping freedom

They think they killed you.
But I saw you yesterday
in the playground.
Black skin, sweaty, shiny
hurling your ball bomb into the hoop
right on target.
Won't be no game next time
cause you ain't hardly playing.

They think they killed you.
But I saw you yesterday
with your back against the wall,
muscles bulging against the chains,
eyes absorbing truth.
Lips speaking it.
Heart learning how to love.
Head learning who to hate.
Blood ready to flow
towards freedom.

Youngbloods ain't got no blood to waste
in no syringes, on no barroom floors,
in no strange lands
delaying other Youngbloods' freedom.
We don't need no tired blood.
No anemic blood. No blood clots
in our new body.

They think they killed you.
But i saw you yesterday.
All them youngbloods
musta gave you a transfusion.
All that strong blood.
All that rich blood
flowing through your veins
toward tomorrow.


Assata Shakur  


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