The Grace of my Race

The pace of black race is laced with God’s grace,
It is amazing how we escaped disgrace
And years of degrade of our race.
I was near tears when I reflected the years of fear
In our minds that kept us behind and blind.

One time in a multiracial community
I was consumed in a fine rhyme
Of Hip hop lines filled with crime
Scenes created by the system.
Miming some of the fine
Lines that told our stories in anthems.

Then a young blonde woman looked at me with remorse
As if what she heard about our bonds are just rumors.
I am an American I hear The African has no honors?
She said with the sympathy of an ignorant being.
I decided to aid her with the information of our being.

I told her about how long we have been here,
I told her about the great years of Imhotep,
I told her about Memphis being the name
Of an old city in Africa
Before she was called
An American and way
Before I was called
An African.

I told her about Ethiopia and the Arch of the Covenant
I told her about the cold years of Alexandra the Macedonian.
I reminded her about the effects of slavery
And told her finally that
The pace of the Black race
Is laced with the Grace
Of God the Creator