The Color Ebony

My body maybe black, but my soul is not I may come from a different land, but I'm still human. My tears are clear and my blood is red, just like yours. Inside we are not so different. I think I may die soon, when I do I hope my grave will be in a land of freedom. Above my grave I want to hear the footsteps of slaves becoming free people I want the white and the black to walk together. Being dark, I am mistaken as dirt so my face is crushed under heels, The Whites think they are best because light has always casted out the dark. I wonder what the fire is like in their Colonial homes, In the cold winter is like a ghost. Suffocating us, Petrifying us, Even killing us... We don't have fur We are not animals. Our hands are not meant to be chained or to bleed They are meant to build To care And to love. Please let us free Please let us be equal No human is meant to be a slave