Cheeks swollen and rosy with blood
Hair full of grey and hope that the debt was paid
The bus she rode sat still
and the sidewalk he walked unevenly paved.
Red the color of our blood
And blue the color of his uniform
He filled their quota and tried to repay
Hidden behind cold orange skin and a crooked toupee
through sin and iniquity with the count of bodies
he killed that day.
Our masks adjusted to fit the new scene
counting each scar after each blessings
we remain unseen.
A nation hated us from the beginning
Had no problem with creating with us
Sleeping while making kids with us
Taking everything we had
and beating on us
appropriating our lives on a screen.
So we wear our masks
to hide behind
our lives will matter
but they dream otherwise.