Real bright-eyed I dove fist first, kicking and screaming until my chest hurt to thwart these machines that had consumed me; "Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee."

These machines blew rings of smoke in the sky
As black as the people they burned to keep running
Like chunks of charcoal tossed carelessly in flames
Willing to sacrifice themselves for the train.
"Sort the diamonds from coal," these machines had been trained;
"Do not tell a soul they are one and the same."
"Until they burn out, our slaves they'll remain."
"The most they can do is to pray for change."

The horrible stench of burning black flesh poured from those smokestacks hellbent and heart heavy. The air cleared, but the smell consumed me; "Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee."

These "reformed" machines blew halfhearted hope;
A sick sad something that made my eyes burn.
I could not for the death of the life of myself
Sit there in silence and watch these machines
Send the coal they claimed to stop burning to hell.
“We can be as good as any diamond!” the coal exclaimed;
“Everyone will know we’re one and the same.”
“Even if I die trying, the truth will remain.”
“We will raise our fists and make a change.”

The coal burned bright as diamonds, hot with pride and the thick black smoke that filled the sky choked the life from the machines. We floated like butterflies, we stung like bees; August 28, 1963. Now the world knows, “I HAVE A DREAM.”