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The Race

Some people frame the game
On the basis of a name
A genocide of shame
They slate your personality
On the faux causality
Of your nationality
You must rise to the plate
And prove that your fate
Correlates
To more
So much more
Than a race
 
People are torn
Settling the score
From the place
They happened to be born
Geography is fake
A border's nothing more
Than a map
They throw in your face
So you stay in your place
And don’t try to chase
The dream
The course
You aim to trace

Otras obras de Joel Titus Miller...



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