A Black Man's Prayer... "GOD, why did you make me black?" Lord, Lord I ask... Why did You make me black? Why did You make me someone The world wants to hold back? Why did You give me thick lips, A broad nose and kinky hair? Why did You make me someone Who recieves the hatred stare? How come my bone structure's so thick, My hips and cheeks so high? How come my eyes are brown, And not the color of the daylight sky? Lord I just don't understand What it is about my skin. Why do some people want to hate me And not know the person within? Lord, don't You think it's time For You to make a change? Why don't you re-do Creation And just make everyone the same? GOD answered: Why did I make you black? Get off your knees and see. I didn't make you the image of darkness, I made you the likeness of Me! I made you the color of coal, From which beautifull diamonds are formed. I made you the color of oil, The black gold that keeps people warmed. All the colors of the heavenly rainbow, Can be found throughout the nation. But when all those colors were blended together, You became my greatest Creation! Your hair is the texture of lamb's wool, Such a humble little creature is he. I am the shepherd who watches for them, I am the One who will watch over thee. You are the color of the midnight sky. I put the twinkle in your eye. A smile hidden behind your pain... That's why your cheeks are so high! You are the color of storm clouds formed When I send my strongest weather. I made your lips full, so when you kiss the one your love they will remember Your structure is strong, your bones are thick, To withstand the burdons of time. Everytime you look in the mirror... The image that looks back is MINE! Invictus Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever GOD there be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud, Under the bludgeonings of fate My head is bloody but unbowed. Beyond this space of wrath and tears Looms but the horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and and shall find me unafraid. It matters not how straight the gate, How charged with punishement the scroll, I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul.                                                               Sting