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What is pain? Is it a figment of imagination? Is it a sensation you feel Is it scars that just won't heal Is it parents who cannot deal Is it knowing not, what is real? What is poetry? Is it the turn of a phrase, Or is it the chill in your spine When you know the next line Or the flow of a rhyme When you form it so fine. What is American culture? Is it freedom and equality, Or is it being tossed in a melting pot Where you're hoping your soul won't rot Not acknowledging what you got Only knowing the have, do not's. What is black? Is it the thug in your hood, Is it that cold brother on the street Whose only warmth is his heat That's tryna make ends meet Standing on bodies, 'stead of his own two feet Tell me, what is black? It is a scholar, a dreamer, a poet, a believer It is a graduate, a teacher, a survivor, an achiever If I ask you will you tell me, Scholar, dreamer, poet, believer Graduate, teacher, survivor, achiever.