My People

My skin burns each time I hear
Each time someone yells something obscene or queer.
When I see people swear or spit in the dust
But I walk away, saying nothing, I must.
For the comments are aimed not at me, oh no,
But for people who don't deserve the pain or sorrow.

My heart cries for my people, their pain and sorrow,
But I can do nothing but wait for a better tomorrow.
They are not my people by country or place,
But mine by heart, by soul, but not face.

My face beams, when I happen to see,
My people stand up and declare, "We're free!"
When King Jr says "I have a dream..."
The world seems to sparkle, glisten, gleam.

My world is waiting, waiting for the right day,
The day when people say "This is the right way!"
But until that day comes, we have to wait,
Just hope and pray it won't be late.

My friends sometimes say, and they have a case,
That I was born wrong colour, wrong time, wrong place.
But that doesn't matter, can't change who you are,
The world's still spinning, we're all shining stars.

But My People will never shine if they can't glow,
We've come so far but we've got so far to go.