Some say black,
Some say brown.
They call us monkeys,
Some still slaves.
They call us stupid and uneducated,
But really there is some irony in that.
My skin is only a different color,
My inside still works the same.
You tell me I must go to a different school,
My kids one day,
A different hell.
I must sit at the back of the bus,
Drink from my own water fountain.
I must live a life a persecution,
A life full of hate.
I’ll never understand,
Why can’t you accept me as I am?