How Little Free We Truly be

I struggle with me and who I am, 

Do I belong here, 

In this place where I stand, 

Or is my home elsewhere,

Where my ancestors had once lain, 

I am from America but is that so great? 

We brag to be the land of the free, 

But little do we know, How little free we be,

Our sisters in color are being shot in their homes

As well as our brothers who can’t breath, 

And are being slammed on their nose

We brag of our rights, 

Our so called rights to love and free speech, 

But if we love the soul despite the outer shell, 

Some people show us hate because they think we might also do spells, 

As for the free speech, well it’s simply not there,

If we speak too loud we might be dragged out by our hair,

If we say what we need we simply get pushed aside,

While a single mother holding her infant child sits and cries,

We are supposed to be the land of the free, 

Where those in worse countries can go to flee,

But it’s hard to flee with walls and waters in your way,

As I.C.E. seeks out those who’ve fled, 

The immigrants are just happy to have a safe roof over their head, for their short stay,

While yes America is the “Land of the Free”,

How little free our people truly be,