Ebonics

Ebonics
By Robert T. Davenport

In the hood, where the streets speak loud,
There's a language that stands out from the crowd.
Ebonics, the slang of the urban scene,
A dialect that's raw, that's gritty, that's mean.

From the block to the corner store,
Ebonics echoes through the neighborhood's core.
It's a language that's real, that's streetwise,
A way to connect, to empathize.

In the hood, you'll hear the words flow,
With a rhythm and style that's all its own.
From "yo" to "what's good," it's a greeting,
A way to show love, to keep on meeting.

Ebonics, the language of the streets,
Where words are flipped, twisted, and beats.
It's a code, a cipher, a secret tongue,
A way to survive, to stay strong.

From "dope" to "fly," it's the slang of cool,
A way to express, to break the rules.
It's a language that's vibrant, that's alive,
A reflection of the hustle, the strive.

In the hood, Ebonics is a bond,
A way to belong, to respond.
It's a language that's rich, that's diverse,
A testament to the culture it serves.

So let's embrace Ebonics, with respect and pride,
For it's a language that can't be denied.
In the hood, it's a part of our identity,
A language that's real, that sets us free.