I marched along the streets
holding my banner aloft
walked a mile in those shoes
whose soles were worn and soft

I heard your taunts don’t worry
and felt your spit upon my face
my child saw you push me
as I took my rightful place

I kept my mouth shut that day
my pride wouldn’t allow a cry
but tears ran down my daughter’s face
as she screamed the question ‘why?’

It’s hard at times to tell a child
that there is prejudice so cruel
that keeps us out of diners
and out of white men’s school

I turned my face in quiet love
and smiled at your angry jeers
then hugged my child as we became
twentieth century pioneers