Our world is nothing, dont you see
There's people with money, and there's people like me
My life has never been anything or made me proud to see
Everyday there's more troubles for me to carry around
There's shooting and killing and guns all around
I'm tired of waking up and hearing one of my people are down
I'm black and it's hard to get around
Some busses wont pick me up, but I dont cause problems around
Racism is something I'm tired of being around
But I'm me and I'm still going to stand my ground
No matter how much hell is coming down
octavia wilson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hard-times-14/
