I was painted to be-
A majestic lioness
With a hungry heart
And beauty resembling art.

I was drawn to be-
A muscular manifestation
Of swift and stable poise
A roaring constant noise.

But I am no prototype for prejudice
This lion, is loyal to herself
And belongs to the savanna,
The rich mud in the Ghana.

I do not care for gold
Or for my pompous title
I shall not use my claws
For such a petty cause.

I bought a shotgun at a flea market without knowing that it was used to commit a horrible crime.
The former owner used the shotgun to **** an entire family and I was about to have to do hard time.
The police came to my house and confiscated the shotgun.
They thought I was the guilty party, they thought I was the one.
The entire world turned against me, I was a person who billions of people hated.
People said that I should go to the gas chamber and if I did, it would be celebrated.
Even though the public had turned against me, I convinced the police to have doubts.
I told them over and over that somebody else was the killer and they decided to check it out.
They found the real killer and it wasn't long before he was placed under arrest.
The cops showed him the bodies of his victims and he broke down and confessed.
Even though I was put through hell, I'm not mad.
The real killer was brought to justice and I'm glad.
Many people have mailed apologies to me and one of the reasons why billions turned against me is because I'm mentally ill.
They thought I was a crazy ****** but now when it comes to committing ******, everybody knows that I never will.

As the soccer ball
Gets kicked
Around
That is how I
Feel when
I am labeled.
How’s about kicking crap.

You try to encourage me.
Assuring ,
it will be alright with time
but for me
you are asking the world.
to change my view
from
prejudice,
to
adversity

I was born.
I was born male.
I was born white male.
I was born white, male Caucasian.
I was born white, male Caucasian in a Republic.
I was born white, male, Caucasian, in a First World Republic.
I was born white, male, Caucasian, in a First World Republic,
     in a large, loving family.

I was born white, male, Caucasian, in a First World Republic,
     in a large loving family, and I'll never work as a talking head.
Why, tell me, do all the others have all the luck.

There's nothing in your words,
There's nothing in your rhymes,
Nothing I haven't heard before,
I don't care, I don't care,
I'm numb.

There's nothing you could say
I don't hear every day,
Those stupid talk shows and interviews,
I don't care, I don't care,
I'm numb.

I come home once a week,
And this is all I hear,
It floods me as it always has,
I don't care, I don't care,
I'm numb.

Prejudice and guilt,
Judgement in my ear,
It's my first thought and my last,
I don't care, I don't care,
I'm numb.

There's nothing in your words,
There's nothing in my voice,
There's noise and boys and prayers,
I care, I care,
I'm dumb.

Midnight!
Midnight!
Midnight!

The burning sensation of those word were hard to digest
Sorrow, Tear, How ugly can I be
Black is Beauty I say…to whom they say

Midnight! Midnight!.. you are as dark as Midnight
I'm haunted by those words, As they stuck to me like fresh sap from a tree..
I’m drowning, I’m drowning, I can’t get free, those words will forever trail me..

They trailed me; they jarred me, Blackie Tutu! Blackie Tutu!
How can kids be so cruel using skin color as a tool
I held my own and stayed cool for I knew has long I was in this school my fate was doom.

Pickey-Pickey head! was the melody of the song
I listened allowing the word to sink into my soul
The beat made me sick and I knew this one would also stick
I Looked up to the sky wondering why
No! No! No! Woman don’t cry
Be an African and hold your pride…

Hands by my side, I held my head up high
I found the fight within me, Stone faced Killer bee
I faced the music and it set me free
On the attack I had them flee…using word to conquer thee
I carried on knowing freedom wasn’t free and then
Like bolt of lightning it occurred me  
To defeat them I had to BELIEVE in ME