Cursed are the children

Nazi men
Wore baggy pants
To hide their sins
And we wonder why
Cursed are the children

Prison is dark skinned and black
And every rich man there can relax
Because Justice opens her eyes
When money floats by

I cried
When a young Caucasian woman walked by
And hid her child and purse aside
In fear of some darkness inside of me
I cannot see
How it is my skin can make me murderous

Racism and bigotry
Murdered my soft poetry
And all that is left is an open wound
And little broken things

Do you dream
About burning crosses
And men named Lynch
Lynching the fathers
Of the innocent
Sun-kissed angels
Of long forgotten African nations
They call the home of Savages

But aren't the savages
The white men
Who attach the eyes of our children
To their sleeves so they can see
Their fair skin and not their dark hearts


We ask
Why cursed are the children
And it must be this sin we live in

Amen

From a black man