The Last Supper: Klansman & BLM

It has been awhile, since my eyes witnessed creativity,
My heart desperate to tremble, not in fear, but in excitement,
Take a chance, hold it dear, protect it, pray it doesn’t leave,

Been a dream of mine, to open up a diner,
Every item on the menu named after a book title,
If you desire to order food you must read the first chapter,
Customers walk away with a little bit of knowledge,

Waiting for the Sons of Anarchy, Old Ladies, and Divas to order,
Can’t help but notice a couple Adam’s Apples,
No judgement, I’ve visited Bangkok, Laverne Cox, call me,

If I was going to name my diner after someone or something,
It would be welcome to the Diner of Pablo,
When you walk in, greeted by Colombian Drug Lords, no guns allowed,
Black Live Matter members act as bartenders dropping knowledge,

In the dining hall, our slave master founding fathers,
Sitting across from Preacher Turner and his slave rebellion,
Bloods and Crips, Amber Rose, her confused feminist notions,
Real feminist educators, combination of Eric Clapton and Miles Davis,


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