With candor we notice the races of men,
Their differences born of the depth of their ken,
How some rule the soil on which others depend,
Making sport of their fellows, no mercy to lend.
The noble man else seeks the hungry to feed,
He driven by love, no compulsion to greed.
His life brings a blessing; domination but need;
The tone of each character shown by their deed.
Thus, it isn’t the color of skin, we contend,
Nor yet how the eyes over cheekbones attend,
Not the dress, nor the speech that their ears comprehend,
But the heart that determines the races of men.
by Becky McGurrin, used by permission