We do not compare to one another.
My skin is the coal the people used. 

Your skin is the powder the flappers adore.
My soul is deep and my heart is pure.
Pure as white!
Your soul is shallow and your heart is dark.
Darker than the skin my people hold.

We may not compare, but you are my brother.
Not by blood
or by class. 

We are fused-

Fused by lives we live and the past we lived 

We are connected forevermore. 


There was a master and he was cruel. 

The crackle of the whip was the electric shock of my greats. There was no hope for the slave that cried.
There was no voice for the slave that remained strong.
Flight was the tantalizing thought.

The slave hadn't a chance to live in flight or freedom.
Their was only the need to fight. 

Fight to live and fight to breathe. 

Those greats so far down kept on fighting. 

They kept on preserving. 

They had their beauty that could never be touched. 



White Man, White Man listen to me. 

I was the coal that was used. 

I was the coal that was taken from its home. 

I was the coal that was discarded and given freedom. 



The flappers are young and they love their powder. 

You will be used and you will become the slave. 

I am the coal that is free. 

You are the powder that is used. 


My beauty will never will fill a white mans body. 

Too much has been seen and too much has been lived. 

No white can hold my strength and no white can hold my beauty. 

They are mine and forever will be.



My soul is deep and my heart is pure.
I shall not be condemned to this life no more.