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No Tribe of My Own

It was a movie as long ago as I was born
A story that had nothing to do with me
In a time that was written by those before
And those who lived with it wonder aloud
“Why must we be disturbed in our graves
While an ignorant finally opens his eyes”

I have no allegiance to a race
My people were not enslaved
Or sent away to the chambers
I do not know of my peoples legacy
Or if they wandered without a home
I only know those I have encountered

Nomads without a past to reincarnate
No vengeance or homeland from God
No buried sacrifice to honor
No rebel flag for right or for wrong
No color to defend or to scorn
No savior to deny or wait for my own

Dying for peace, their souls lived with honor
To never again trust another man with their life
But with hope to love them as they once did
For they knew that God made everyone
And the image they see is their own reflection
Each of us a pond to quench the eyes of another

No, I do not have this recorded history
So grant my indifference mercy
Grant my confusion clarity
As I watch the past rise up in you
Demanding my loyalty to your passion
I will be you in this moment

As I know emotion cannot compromise
And blood cannot vanquish purpose
I will try to understand
And ask God if silence or howls love the same
For I know they feel despair equally
Partitioning my heart between doubt and faith

Only God can determine their worth
But they know they must fight for their day
For the court in heaven must hear their plea
They are willing to die for their right
The story will be told again and again
And I finally heard it as they walked past

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