I see the colors of black and white
Engulfed in a sea of tears
I hear the moans and cries of spite
The cracks of rope and wails of fears

I feel the heat burn the fun
The emotions of endless shun
I smell the sickest pile of slop
Like a very moldy crop

I imagine the next morning
To end this horror
Or at least give hope
To help this nation

My rays will make the sad fine
And I, the sun, shall shine