Upon us spews the lava
Of a hateful culture risen
The magma slowly hardens
In these deepening divisions
Walls that form around us
Fashioned from the remnant rubble
Freshly toppled monuments
Of the Jim Crow bubble
Once our countrymen picked cotton
That’s now shoved in many ears
To shut out the guilt they’re feeling
From choosing not to hear
It’s easy to say past is past
It feels better to be blameless
The louder one shouts “not my fault”
The quicker they get famous
They insert words into rival mouths
And in their cohorts heads
So that any hopes of a peaceful end
are cruelly whipped instead
The Mewriginal 
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