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.
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