There are some truths
Of what I do know:
Where I come from
And where I will go.

The birth of a child
Dear mother of mine
Will end in the dirt
As all do in time.

Man spits words of hate,
Hurt and callous intent
Because others do not agree
On how time should be spent.

Neither skin nor name
Will earn them a place
Out of where all dead will end
Regardless of race.

So put down your axes,
Your torches, and spears,
Fear is only inspired
By those who hold fears.

There are some truths
Of what I do know:
From dearest mother we all came
And to the dirt we all shall go.