Dirty Hands
Dirty Hands
My white hands are dirty
Even if I don’t realize
My burdens light like my skin
I haven’t had the same trials
The house I live in
my manicured life
The things I don’t have to think about
While oppressed brothers deal with strife
Stolen lives, blood sweat and tears
Things haven’t changed enough
over far to many years
“Jump down turn around, pick a bail of cotton”
Innocent men hung from trees
We should beg for forgiveness
But it’s black men on their knees
Prison population permeated with colour
We haven’t looked out for one another
We have to rethink “Who is my brother?”
No child should be without their father
Each home should have a dad and mother
To many lives that are broken
A few black women
get a job as a token
but heaven forbid
If they’re ever outspoken
“Things are more equal”
You must be jokin
Is that some kind of White Privilege Puff you’re smokin?
Even though I’m aware
I’m not sure what to do
Still I know I can’t pretend things are equal for you
But am I truly able to face what is true
Old ways of thinking are starting to renew
I’m afraid of where we are heading to.
White power resurgence
Watch out for that person
standing next to you
Now they want to stop your vote
They say “We’re all in the same boat.”
So why do you feel fantom fingers around your throat
Your tunes are being sung backwards
While to many are left with a sour note.
More white washing
Coat upon coat.
To many are losing their hope.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2021
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