When I put this ink on paper, I travel to a place of truth

Where everyone is free to be, who or what they want to be

These words are my friends and oh so true are they

These lines are like the stars; they shine and show the way

When the ink flows from my pen, we become kings and queens again

And to be black means you’re strong, for this is what we long

When my ink flows, Malcolm didn’t die, Racism never was

And the color of your skin doesn’t determine who you are

Or what you will become

Just as the ink was wet and then becomes dry

So too we can achieve, as long as we try

The ink represents our blood, our sweat and our tears

These words convey knowledge and its truth conquer fears

When the ink ceases to flow, that’s how we’ll know

That the poem of life has ended and we’ll never be one again