WHIT-TE MANGO!

OUT OF AFRICA

Why you tell me many things I no understand,

How the world go end and everything go bend for the end?

Inside your school, you fire us with books, thoughts and ideas; and

Tear our backs with canes and whips when we no wan hear or learn.

Teacher, leave me alone and stop teaching me nonsense!

Eve, Karl Marx, Adam and Paul, did they talk in my language? 

 

Master! Whit-te master, why you become mad

And enraged, when children sing, fight, and dance

Naked under the mango tree, shading them from the heat:

Going round and round in circles, in embracing grip?

On leashing your bullets and guns, you tear their maroon skins.

 

!go, man White.

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