Afraid to embrace life too many Black folks worship false idols and the dead.
No figures loom larger in Black life than those of dead icons.
Marcus Garvey-Dead, Martin Luther King Jr.-dead, Malcolm X-dead, Elijah Mohammed-dead, Patrice Lumumba-dead, Jesus-dead, The Prophet Mohammed-dead, Moses-dead, Medgar Evers-dead,A. Phillip Randolph-dead, Adam Clayton Powell Jr.-dead, and the list goes on and on.

When we are not worshipping the dead we venerate the icon of a renaissance Jesus and hang the picture in our homes and churches of the blue eyed light brown haired man, your accepted Jesus which teaches Black children to be inferior because the icon negates their true perception of personal divinity.

God is white, the devil is black.
Think not, then close your eyes and tell me how you see Jesus.
Ministers say it doesn’t matter what Jesus looked like as they become the new overseers of modern day slaves captured by an icon which for a Black man is mental and physical death.
We watch as he tries to erase his presence from the earth by first denigrating and discarding his woman.

When he wakes up he will love her finally for she to him will be dead.
Dead by his hand and mouth as he presumes video whores are as real as his new blonde queen.
Death is really not loving yourself enough to recognize that within you which is divine to the heart, mind, and to the eye.
Loving your own Black self is the first sign of life.