You hear stories of brutality
From way back when,
Back in the days when they made slaves of fellow humans,
And we act like black people get treated better these days,
But it’s a lie and a myth
It’s not much better these days.
Forced in to estates, the projects and ghettos,
Given no hope, no future, no love.
Given very little money on which to survive
And to many of them have wasted lives,
Because the drugs and the guns,
Which are common to them,
That they think will help them get ahead,
Are the very things that kill them
as the scrap for life,
Or being shot by police in the blink of an eye.
Yes you say but they could do more,
But everytime they see an open door,
It’s slammed in their faces, for being poor,
And those who make it
Don’t go back to those doors.
The education they’re offered is mostly
To weak,
So the education they get means their future
Is bleak.
Then we wonder and question
Why they form their gangs,
Well why not ask the same of the bankers and politicians,
Who do much the same to murder and rob,
But for them it is legal because they call it their jobs,
Unless we create a free, less racist society,
Fairer and with equal opportunities,
Then we will never solve the problem
Of poverty,
And remain no better than we were in the days of slavery.
fauxcroft 
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