Dreams in a Stolen Country


America, land of opportunity, but those who can't afford the dreams

in folkslore in myth, about stablity and a white picket fence

no these things cost your soul, your limbs, and your sanity

abusing the brown skinned founders of the legacy of  a stolen country

while decedents of conquerers sit high with a history of the

sufferage of blacks, browns, reds and yellows being the builders of the seat that gives

the eurocentric their serenity, now to build ourselves up from the ashes of low income 

and comprimised freedom and the opportunities forfeited only to have  them

refered to as discpline and our actions treason, I lay myself bare in order to sustain a dream

not to sugar coat and pretend my pockets and finaces have self esteem

because they don't, my pockets can't run that deep, from my life and underneath the ground at 

six feet, where my acenstors from chiefs, and slaves and borderes that bring America it's

containment and false relief , in this place wealth without aligence and born light skinned, blue

eyed and pretsigious,is like Jesus, holy, and miraculous demonstrations presented and held

over heads of those who fight and those who bled to give right and reclaim right, with police

canes and trained dogs flogging over  children and  womens heads

But I'm still not allowed to be fed when I say I'm hungry

the land of opportunity is a stolen country, 

my dreams still keep me hungry, hoping to be able to

afford the opportunity, to educate myself, in order to free me.




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