What is there to know about us?
The backward kin covered in dust.
Absolutely nothing I say
It’s easy to recognize us from far away.
With our big noses and lips,
ugly dark skin and hips.
Nappy hair so thick with disgust,
A deep voice which sounds like a throttle thrust.
We take off our attires
And dance around the fire.
Spend the sunshine hunting where none survives,
and come home to beat our wives
We slept with apes and created a disease,
sold our brothers in trade of weapons, books and a belief.
Walks around naked chasing lions in the mighty jungle,
strolling behind in an uncivilized society not so humble.
Gather to chant songs
in the plantations where we belong.
Hate the night and idealize the day,
abandon the dark, and where it’s white we stray.
What else is there to know about us?
The kin in the back of the bus.
Well this is just a one man’s words.