In dirty, filthy rags
Standing on bare feet
Tired with calloused hands
And not a drop of food to eat
Beaten and mocked
Lynched and burned
The reality of slave labor
Was not a penny earned
Don’t trouble yourself
With the big white house
Just you stay quiet
Quiet as a mouse
Your kind can only do
the small, simple things
Plowing all the fields
For harvests in the springs
Don’t ever put your hands
On nothing that is white
Because if you ever do
You could lose your life
Stay right down here
Down here in your place
The bottom of the barrel
With the rest of your race
Copyrighted © February 2007 Latorial Faison
