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Preaching to the Next Generation



I heard a commencement address today,

Trying to encourage the youth,

He didn't offer much hope with what he had to say

In fact, his words weren't meant to soothe.



What he said was powerful, and it inspired,

But I'm afraid he just spoke partial truth.

The sad part was that his mind was still mired

In ancestral slavery, but smooth.



He spoke about anger and repression,

That comes from deep within,

He spoke of overcoming oppression,

In spite of a specific skin.



What he said boiled down to black and white,

Lines that divided humanity

Appeal to ancient suspicions, but not what was right,

Life is more than what we think we see.



He spoke about spirit and heroic past,

But didn't seek to praise,

He didn't teach service or love, he cast

the gauntlet to the next fists to raise.



The spirit he spoke of was enduring hatred,

You should carry on our legacy,

Just work for your own people, he suggested,

And improve only your community.



He spoke of the rise and fall of great men,

He spoke of his God and his church,

And some of what he said was true, but then,

He left love hanging in the lurch.



I was sad that he preached xenophobic hatred,

And not of improving the world,

Is the next generation to do what he said,

With angry fists raised and curled?



I asked, where is the hope for God's love to surpass,

Or for faith to overcome?

Are you just an angry taker or will you show class,

To love all and not just some?



It's about being someone good, not a criminal,

It's about making a contribution,

It's about caring, not living like an animal,

And being part of the right solution.



May God teach us all that we each bleed red,

Our hands should be joined in prayer,

Before the next generation is lost in hatred,

We need to find out how to care.