How Can You Tell Me
You don't see what I see
or what goes on in my head,
so how can you tell me
that the sky is not red?
You can't feel my passion,
eternal flame in my heart,
so how can you tell me
from my pain won't come art?
You can't listen to my soul
or the melodies it sings,
so how can you tell me
that I don't come from kings?
You don't suffer my pain,
nor have you witnessed my story,
so how can you tell me
that I'm not destined for glory?
You don't value my people,
but know the price we were sold,
so how can you tell me
that your black's not my gold?
Copyright © Jonathan Duhart | Year Posted 2017
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