How cruel they be.
We flesh; flesh that weeps, laughs; flesh that dances on bare feet in grass.
They despise it.
Checkers is all they want to play.
But I’m missing pieces.
Those white things,
Those white things have stolen all I had.
All I dreamed.
Broke my heartstrings, too.
There ain’t no bad luck in the world.
’Cept whitefolks.
How cruel they be, those white things.
They ain’t like the colors all ’round.
They ain’t like the red and orange, them white things.
They ain’t got no color.
No flavor.
Naw sir, naw ma’am.
We got color.
We got flesh.
Flesh that needs to be loved.
Love your heart.
For it is the prize.