I don't see America as home of the free and land of the brave. Through my eyes I see America through the eyes of the slave. I don't see opportunity and prosperity. I see oppression and poverty. I don't see hopes and dreams. I see despair and nightmares filled with screams. White privilege is not promise to me. Disadvantage is the promise of the ancestors of slavery. I live to suffer until I die. That is America through my eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem