White Pages - Kalai

You’ve tried to sever the limbs of lives lived long before you came

leaving miles of tradition on one empty page

Touched by the fingers on the hands of creation

My soul surges my blood to my father’s

So bleeds my mind cause you won’t educate my children

And sleeps my pride drugged by the contraband of liars

Let me tell you about my good friend brother Washington

he done cut the cherry tree

Then we buried the fruit along with the roots and blinded our history

I don’t need no civil restitution it aint me who need be free

Print the words as I heard from my mama and read the book to me

Oceanic American tribe

Underdog of colonial time

Easy natured paradise

White pages silenced their cries