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Poetry: Racism

by Maria Ragan

In the distance

I hear the beating of a drum

Awakening all the warriors

Bidding them to come

If you take one moment

To listen, tune your ear

You can hear the rustling

Of his Spirit drawing near

There is a new message

Rising in the East

Gathering all his people

From the greatest to the least

All tribes and shades of color

Will have a brand new start

A stone of recognition

That will join them at the heart

Those that froze in silence

In tragedies of time past

Will be clothed in priestly garments

Some that were first will be last

There are those dull of hearing

For their plight I weep

They were lulled by earth's riches

Their spirits are asleep

Awake, awake from slumber

The time is drawing near

The healing balm is given

To soothe the heart of fear

It is the season for deliverance

The time to make amends

To gather all those scattered

The beginning and the end

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