Dear Black People
It isn’t privilege,
To be less oppressed
To not be judged by surface
It’s a right that you’re denied
A curse that you are birthed with
Im not saying its right
But attacking on the whites is
Not the path that yields solutions
They’re not the enemy to fight.
If all could come together
And stand with you I’d like
Because I have not forgotten
How my people were obliged
To be white.
How we were whitewashed,
Our culture outright
Destroyed, by the sword and torch
The cult of christian force
That stamped out my ancestral heathens,
Extinguished that torch;
An oiled rod inside me
That y’all could scorch
If your done screaming yourself hoarse
About how we are evil,
Y’all are living the sequel;
Mine lived the prequel
Meet me on a reservation
The three can meet as equals.
