racialinjustice
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Southern mobiles bear a strange sound,
I am Treyvon MartinMy life is not to long startin' I work day in and day outFrom my mother did I sproutMy life is in God's handI am just human
In they came,
Closing our shops,
Stealing our country,
Burning our crops.
In they came.
Taking my mother,
Changing our language,
Killing my brothers.
In they came,
You are the “jewel in the crown”
the axel of a wheel.
You are a house’s foundation
and the steam of an engine.
You are a trustworthy friend
and the backbone of our economy.
Hopeless, voiceless, suffocating by our own ancestry. Muffled tones of freedom songs in sync with the stomps of our feet, our negro spirituals.
