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Equality, easy as the breaths we take? It's a mind set of minds we make. We have the power to teach and train. We have the power to stop with our blame. You inherit control to set the new path.
It all started with Emmit Till We won’t let them have our bodies to fill, their rivers of hate
A movement defined by endurance and freedom that gives the heart motive
My room mate, my friend. She doesn't see me, She sees my almond eyes. Her white-tinted glasses tells her eyes, those orbs of ice, what is Asian. Despite the spots on the map that my people come from.
We are the people of this world We are the people of America What are rights? Does rights have a color, a ethnic a gender, a race? NO Rights are something that is given but yet earned.
What is this white cap I wear That makes everyone stare, When I can down the green crown Of liberty to set everyone free?
When the world goes blind, It will only be love that we find. Everyone will look the same. We will no longer play a vision game.
For centuries the black woman has been demoralized then defamed. As well as watching her dignity being put to shame.
You sit up on the bed you were sleeping on The Pain inside of you shudders your every bone. The youth that once was is now forever gone You vainly try to remember all those moments you were happy,
Beaten and tired of being called on last, Mocked and threatened, living this way is no easy task. Viewed from the bottom of society’s totem pole, White faces all around and they expect us to stay small.
Fight, they said. Puncture the minds of those who choose not to listen. Free your voice. Let yourself be known. Fight, they said. Persist upon your rights to be. Unbound, unarmed. Fight.
Every minute of my fifteen years on earth has been spent examining the various colors around me The chestnut trees that stretch their tired branches shed a great deal of vibrant green offspring
My life is in pictures color and black and white. I hear the ocean roar and see my family's fight. Struggle to third floor just another day. Mother worn weak and ragged like the scarecrow hanging by a few pieces of straw.
I'm going to take you back in history and I don't just mean yesterday's history. I'm talking about to the history of our ancestors To the History of slavery where the color of our skin made my ancestors slaves.
They tied him down with the same thick threads and chains that he busted out of a few scores ago Unknown white men in white capes with white tips strung him up upon a thick black stump