I Red Woemen You Black Child

Black woemen, beautiful your poems and I read about how they the master steal, well some have fork tongue also, There in the mist of the spirit the lion is with the bear, the village not Hillary but the valley of color, I a red woemen beautiful is your daughter and son, I look at the little girls hair well beautiful I like long hair my grandaughter hair pass hips at one time short how, culture don't forget records burned we never had records or their name, you don't need medisin man wrong you don't did fast car, child well die, we don't need money for the clothes they wear. Well I'll read on I talk to child of color I told her sign your name child. I write this for the child.