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Migrant Farm Workers
05/04/2005 @ 4:30am
By:
chiphind

Brown burnt black, today’s slaves
Working under minimum wage
Hands bloody, cotton cut
Residing in tiny tin huts
Manual labor; our special niche
Building roads and digging ditch
The American dream our people it passed
Uncle Sam kicked our ass
We lost our land, wealth, customs, and tongue
To our own language we are deaf and dumb
We weren’t hauled across the sea
We are slaves of Manifest Destiny
Foreign to the land of our birth
Subhuman we’ve no worth

 
Copyright © chiphind, All Rights Reserved


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