You see a face

It says "Don't look at me"

But if you do

Be sure of what you see,

It is the future of tomorrow.

I know it now

Their problem is not mine,

So easy with

The passing of the teaching time.

Now buried with the bones of sorrow.

 

Wish I was born

With hope of integration,

Then I would ban

This 'labelling' of nation.

The curse of those who cannot see the lights. 

 

I'd hoped to live

Long enough to see it pass,

The World as One,

Simply graded...'Even Class'

And everyone, would only live with equal rights. 

 

 

(c) ZYDHA HART  2003