A Black Cinderella in the White House

€ 0,88

This poem is inspired by Malia Obama, who can stand as a symbol of challenge, who dared to overcome barriers of race to book a place in the book of history. She is the hope of a new black generation in America.
Malia fills the dreams of our children
As their black Cinderella
Who disperses light over all places
And inspires them to ride seas, lands and spaces
With big dreams and smiling faces
Malia is the symbol of freedom
Who dared to put back
The dark history of her race
And started a new race
With dignity and full grace

The White House was once a symbol of tyranny
Built by Hundreds of blacks
Their blood was mixed with blocks
Each stone
Has a story of its own
Under whips
And kicks on the hips
Men and women of the black race
Were to race
Under the sun
Or under winter's grace
They had to race
To place
And replace
One block over one block
And a stone
Over a stone
And mix their black blood with cement
To raise a mansion
For the white master
In the White Garrison
But now this has all become your own
The palace is now all yours
Built by your own race
Who dug deeply in earth
To build a rooted base
And decorated the White House's face
To enable you play happily and freely
And fill all the space with joy and peace
And then trace history
To sweep all the misery
Of your old African race

This poem is inspired by Malia Obama, who can stand as a symbol of challenge, who dared to overcome barriers of race to book a place in the book of history. She is the hope of a new black generation in America.
Malia fills the dreams of our children
As their black Cinderella
Who disperses light over all places
And inspires them to ride seas, lands and spaces
With big dreams and smiling faces
Malia is the symbol of freedom
Who dared to put back
The dark history of her race
And started a new race
With dignity and full grace

The White House was once a symbol of tyranny
Built by Hundreds of blacks
Their blood was mixed with blocks
Each stone
Has a story of its own
Under whips
And kicks on the hips
Men and women of the black race
Were to race
Under the sun
Or under winter's grace
They had to race
To place
And replace
One block over one block
And a stone
Over a stone
And mix their black blood with cement
To raise a mansion
For the white master
In the White Garrison
But now this has all become your own
The palace is now all yours
Built by your own race
Who dug deeply in earth
To build a rooted base
And decorated the White House's face
To enable you play happily and freely
And fill all the space with joy and peace
And then trace history
To sweep all the misery
Of your old African race

PrijsVerzendkostenTotaal
€ 0,88
€ 0,00
€ 0,88