Felt so out of touch with where I came from.
Didn't know names or faces,
Couldn't fathom these far off places...
Reading these white-washed textbooks,
Got me wondering about this melanin deficiency
Is it Rape, or some type of Pocahontas idiocracy?
Another missing connection I'll never understand.
Photocredit: ShutterStock.com/Andrey_Popov |
A change we can believe in?
But when I turn on the news
Its all still there: every tear, every view.
Face down in the cement—
Move to the other side.
Keep your mouth closed;
Look at the ground...
Are you gonna die like a man,
Or die like a slave?
I used to wonder...
What they looked like, how they felt
How they'd made it
With the crappy hand they were dealt...
Then I looked in the mirror,
I looked on the TV,
And I saw them
Inside and around me.