The moment we made that memorable Exodus from her sacred womb, The veil of suspicion floated from their eyes And draped our lives like a burden. Then we have to spend the rest of our days Trying to rip the veil of suspicion from our souls In vain. When they see us, we are marked Because of their fear. They hate us, fear us, and aim to control us. Why?
Why do you despise the blackest of God's divine creation But pursue dark, insignificant objects? You're even intimated by the tiniest of our sons, Hunting them to slaughter them like immoral doctrines.
I feel sorry for you, The ones who fear us but idolize us. I feel sorry for you, The ones who despise us yet envy us. I feel sorry for you Along with the ones who are totally sightless, Unaware of the systematic wickedness That begins soon after our memorable Exodus From mother Africa's womb.