Poetry

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I know it's not your fault you feel the way you do
'Cause deep down inside, it's like bred in you
I know you can't what happened in the past
When you forefathers fought to make slavery last
To keep men in bondage like mules to work
From sun-up to sun-down in mud and dirt
They were treated like herds, guided by whips
They'd milk the masters' cows, but couldn't drink the milk
I know you can't help what your forefathers did
When they went far abroad to make slaves of men
I know it's not your fault you're so quick to sprout
To shun the poor instead of helping them out
So when you turn your back, I know it's not your fault
For all through the years, that's the way you were taught

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