In my mind, I used to be a child of poverty,
not knowing that hopes and dreams can become reality.
In my mind, I thought it was fine to sit in the back of the classroom because my teacher never asked me to read or write.
But little did she know I was ever so bright.
In my mind, I could never used to understand why they used to call me Ashy, and Black. I always hear being black living near a railroad track – those are the things that would hold you back.
But now I understand why being called Ashy and Black.
Black is the color of my skin, so soft, beautiful, silky and smooth.
In my mind, I used to hear grandma cry, on her knees bowing down shouting thank-You Lord, thank You Lord for blessing this house!
Her cries brought tears to my eyes. Grandma’s cries was thanking God for all His blessings.
Now I understand why in my mind, I heard ancestors cry, they helped clear the path so others do not have to die.
Justice and peace, Oh Father, please help me. And that’s what I heard in my mind.