From the age of five or six,
There are little boys and girls
Who are already aware of how they must
Act in the yes of Big Brother.
Because they, as a minority, have a disadvantage,
They must conform to this outwardly
“Color blinded” blanket
To fit into and please one pure, virgin colored stitch
To comfort Uncle Sam at night.
Ignorance is truly bliss
For the little majority boys and girls
Who don’t see Big Brother.
Orwell never made it into their privileged
And as soon as they take a sneak peek
Inside of its pages,
We mustn’t talk about this,
They say it doesn’t matter.
It’s not our fault that white is right
In the face of education
While black never lacks
In staining the work force.
“I’m not a racist,
I just don’t think race matters,”
Says the supposed Virgin Mary
Of the races.
Says this so-called angel who decides to wait
For an illegitimate judgment day
Instead of facing today.
They believe the profiles stayed in the past,
But racism didn’t die away
In the Holocaust, plantation days, or exclusion acts.
Demons are still very much alive
In Uncle Sam’s blanket;
The sin has now become so comfortable
That their hellish acts are neglected,
Not being exorcised.