After the storm comes the rainbow,
Vivacious colors splitting the grey.
After the clouds shines the sun,
Shining light through the tears of the sky.
Storms are alive, in you, in me, in the world.
Slavery was a storm, segregation is a storm,
Genocide is a storm, where is our rainbow?
Where is our colors? Each person is a rainbow.
Equally beautiful, equally bright.
A melting pot of culture and heritage,
A reflection of a rainbow,
A collection of differences blending together in perfect balance.

Rainbows are surreal, something of a dream.
There was a man with a dream,
He fought to find the pot of gold through the storms of time.
He only needed the rainbow.
He needed the people.
He needed you and he needed me.
Segregation has passed, the clouds have blown away,
Yet storms return, and the rainbow breaks through the day.
Brighten our rainbow, and strengthen us so.
Let us be strong, no matter how hard the wind will blow.