God's pen paints my limbs and skin with melanin And so begins my history, but you curse me for his creativity Thus my nativity is a scene of injustice, Just us created in his image, Best wishes for faded color lines Debated these lives of mine A fate chased by prejudice Freedom, a story, a race then edited by race Race and we are still running About to be Erased by the colors of hate So i await Dreaming like Martin i awoke to the strokes of Gods brush on my flesh And realized that we are still blessed As we all are stand tall and we cannot fall Take baby steps Crept into equality swept away past follies of yesterdays And pay attention to tomorrows To rectify coming sorrows of these borrowed souls And we were meant to love one another as sister and brother under the sun And we were meant to eat at the table of brotherhood Sisterhood, your hood, my hood, The good of a people created equal are in their souls within And not in the hues God will choose to paint their skins.