Poems about Race

My splattered blood dries over the newly cemented pavement where my head collided,
As I walk down the street I see children playing innocence.
My God isn't her god, Isn't His God, Isn't your God. My God has a different name, a different form, and claim to fame.
Gather round young and old I have a story that needs to be told, this story can still be heard round the nation.
Some say black, Some say brown. They call us monkeys, Some still slaves.
"Five score years ago,”Looking out at the sea of growing people
People A head, a heart, a body, a soul Working, breathing, loving, hating
Negro, dark skinned or black. They know not my name, they don't know jack. Basing their opinions on me,
One mind, Same heart, Why are we blind to see that, But yet quick to see color,
Why does skin color matter? We are people, arent we? Black brown or white We differ but its alright

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