The colour they seek

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They see pigs not our pigment.
The sun which stands firm in our midnight skin.
As we work for the freedom we never will withhold.
The pain of a long known sin.
Our strong black hearts behold. The radiation that beats on the back of a radiant man.
Fighting for a struggle that releases the sorrow in his hands.
The bruises of an unfair levity.
The longing for a rare civility .
Captivated by the pale, weak hearted evils.
Seeking servants like Minny gods.
For their fruitful lands in which the brown palms vegetate.
Inflicting unbearable pain, as they strike their black lace rods.
As it makes a path of red water, in which we develop hate.

Our tears become years of unjust rebellion.
For it seems as thou in the time of freedom
We are still scorned and raped of our rights to be different.
The superiority in which we hold makes them timid,
And there is no other way to say  this statement is quite vivid.
We have now become more self-conscious of the strength we conceive.
And with this strength we are able to make others believe.
Believe and see that there Is more to us than rugs and carriers of pales.
More to us than workers and and worthy sales.
For we are no longer bought like animals from a pet store,
Or trained like a lion from a zoo.
We are now known civilians, worth more than just a penny or two .
For the fight is still in the air between the whites, blacks and blues.
Its more than just the soul to them, its the color they seek in me and you.

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