The Poteet Strawberry Fest
A Festival of sin
Our brothers are exploited
Their pockets remain thin
Chavez, once before, fought for remuneration
He began a boycott that affected the entire nation

So now I ask myself, who am I?
I’m Chicano through and through.
The son of my people.
To the Raza I stay true.
My Raza is a banner, that I am not afraid to fly
The colors of the flag I carry, in me will never die

So to an educated Chicana, I asked
Do you know who Cesar Chavez is?
Yeah a boxer, she replied.
I said,” that the title of boxer is not his”
This educated Chicana, the future of the race
The one from the University, is nothing but disgrace

So I urged her to ask, a couple of her friends
And United they replied, a Boxer once again
Is the movement the man started, so easy to forget?
the troubles he corrected, he took away our pain
These three Chicana’s talking AND anger came over me
I began to feel that we as a people have no History

Then I realized, I had a revelation
Like Julio, Cesar was a fighter, a champion if you will
He fought in a world that did not want change
He helped our brown skinned brothers whose job it was to till
This man to me is a hero, Martin Luther King Chicano Style
An Aztec Warrior that kept fighting, to this there’s no denial.

But now I became more distressed
Three Chicana’s and not one Knows who is the Rey
This led me to think that this world is black and white
People see the history books they read them day to day
And lost in the pages are the people of the sun
And the leader of the movement died, and was remembered not by one

Now, I turn to TV once black and white
I see the tube of color, and yet these two hues remain
With all of our technology we still are color blind
There is no color of brown to show our gains
We still lack power in a world that once belonged to us
WE must regain what we’ve lost, we must, we must, we must

So it follows that we must fight a battle
So that we may be remembered in this country that we call home
This Nation that was taken away from us and yet we still hold no claims
A nation of vast fields and our people were forced to roam
We will lose all, if our identity is not saved
Remember those who fought, Aztec Warriors that died so brave

WE are the children of a people, noble, and as beautiful as ever seen
We are the heir to a thrown, the one the Aztec’s left behind
We must lay claim to what is ours
And forever keep our identity in our minds
We cannot allow ourselves to forget that we our a beautiful Race
We are Chicano’s, if lost, we face ultimate disgrace.

 
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