by Goldie

They brought us across the seven seas,
To treat us as awful as they pleased,
Our ancestors they tortured,
And killed with ease,
And cut down their hopes just like oak trees,
Violence was used to keep them in check,
And make them lose their self-respect,
But my people refused to close their eyes,
For they had not achieved the prize,
The prize was a cure that they needed bad,
Because racism was the disease they had.

Vaccine by Goldie

© Copyright 1994. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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