In the streets I am not wanted
In this nation I am not wanted
In the streets terror takes over
In the nation arguments are heard
Separating colored from white
Separating imperfects from perfects
Segregation is a way of life
Racism is a daily routine
Equal rights isn’t in our vocabulary
Freedom for colored isn’t thought of
Stereotyping, judging, terrorizing
Where is my freedom I’ve longed for?
Where is my holy land?
Where is my safe place?
The north is helping,
But is it enough?
I feel a change coming
The change in the nation
Speaks of freedom and
Ends segregation
It will make me
Feel wanted in the streets
Feel wanted in the nation
But for now I feel as if I’m
Not wanted here
My skin may be different,
But I have a heart and
I am still a human being
Created by our Holy Father
So where is my freedom?

Shackles and chains

used to run through my veins.

Freedom did not know my name

Now I roam the halls with no shame.

A brand on my torso

haunts me also.

My writing lets out the built-up anger

of the anchor.

Betrayal and sorrow fills the room

but I do not have gloom.


I’m always tired

but I never sleep.

I’m also sad,

but you never see me weep.

Thunder and rain

gave me pain.

Ships and dancing

were never romancing.

And here in the freedom I stay

because the skies are no longer gray.


I am strong and I belong.

And I have known this all along.

Maybe people did not realize what they had done.
The ****** of the people and their hope.
Africans are no different, so why were they treated as such?
It's better now! Tables with no signs that say,
"White Only."
Benches for everyone to use. One drinking fountain instead of two:
One on each side of the building.
One in the same!
And college, striving for a better future
Is an option.
Now, was that so hard?

Aren't they supposed to be people, too?
Pigment is really that important?
They are not *****!
A separate restaurant,
Drinking fountain,
Theater,
Bench,
Everything!
Because you can deal with "different" people.
They had "rights,"
But if they were considered people, the segregation would not have happened. They had no choice.
The conditions were worse.
How is that fair?
Hardly any jobs were open to them.

And I know you know exactly what I am
Talking about, but I never said once
That almost everyone called them that one despicable word:
******.

It was a new start
You opened your heart
I fell through that part
But you pierced me like a dart.

Me and you yet part
But you were too smart
You led me to your heart
And again I fell apart

Moving on was like a chart
One of you was one of art
But slowly we would depart
Though I still saw your caged heart