Identity

Poem By James Royster

How can I smile when 2/3 of me have been
oppressed? Yet I am told to just hold my head
up and do my best.

You want me to work hard so the corporation
can do well? It seems hard to succeed when
half of my people are sitting in Jail.

Some people say that I am a KING.
Others say I am not a person, but a thing.

There are some things the teachers want to
hide. Like the moon, history also has a
dark side.

They say to have power you must first obtain
knowledge. We must be pretty weak since only
30% of us make it to college.

Who am I? Wouldn't you like to know? I am
an oppressed King, the tree that was
forbidden to grow.

But you're not ready to open you eyes.
So just like me, you wear a disguise

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