BP

I am the black essence that courses though the veins of BP

Stolen from the womb of the earth I bleed to lubricate the cogs of America’s machinations

Dark; my richness has succumbed to the pimps of economic auction blocks as my womb remains raped and pillaged by throbbing shafts offered by below-average sized cocks

Left to wade in the water my capturer laments his loss and denies his responsibility as blackness flees its metal confines

Left crude I stay afloat within an environment designed for my submersion

I wonder what is more unnatural, their treatment of me, or the environment that they’ve left me in?

Suffocated and suffocating, genuine hands reach out to BP and pull back excuses

A vain moratorium intentionally instigates my fate as it foretells of heavier chains to come through the flow of ink

The truth of me still unknown; presumed a disaster

Forgotten

Ignored; left to coagulate in the shallow recesses of obscurity unless refined to unnatural specs

Deemed useless until my blackness is removed, my strength is birthed from the death of my ancestors

Ignorance hides the fate of my removal as the world trembles in my absence

This place now rudely awakened to the realization that none of this would work without me

It never has

Therefore, they whisper their dependency while shouting their declarations of independence as they endeavor to steal me from another country

They even use me to use me; desiring and detesting my presence all in the same breath

Revolution lies dormant in my rebirth only to offer the fire that lies beneath the surface

For such is the case for the oil of British Petroleum

The slick of the Black President

And the souls of Black People

BP


Tungz