This is my ol to the president- I miss you man, Sasha, Malia and first lady Michelle, yes we did-but where do I go to be home again, being a Black man in America over and Over again,
I miss you Mr.President I call you my great uncle, I see you in the tears of our
four fathers, as a King as a sequel with our Queen as a equal,
It happened again my president, that Emancipation, they sold us again in high class segregation, my years evaporated my heart is obliterated because you left eight years like Abraham's first wife Haggarth and we see what the right hand is doing, president Obama
I walked like you, I wish I could talk like you, you ran the country and the world off so such faith, believing we'd make it some day black as Africans across a ocean this is my ol to you black man,
black man in this room-remember your freedom was held, held like June too. Will you to assess it too, or leave- with it to a betterment, to a better defiant, you are a black president that president, relevant, molded by god in tombs, entombed to the noses of triumphant melodies to world called Zion,
raisin our children under the same moon that our fore fathers sang to, believing that yesterday wasn't a monsoon, re surfaced-on this earths plantoon, black moon, black tears, black fears, right here, right now, why hear, black man in this room
you are your father keepers-you are your mother deepest-you are the hardest envied-
you are emancipated don't forget, you are emancipated, un shackle you mind and become a celebration,
black man June is you to, you June too.
This is my ol to you Mr.president I miss you.