You tell me about my people

Reminding me

That we are not the same

You tell me about my people

Yet you occupied us for over a hundred years

My people starved

Your people robbed

And made us watch on

As you cut off our mothers' hands

Are you not the people

Who defiled a symbol of love

Complete with gold emerald and rubies

Leaving it a marble stone

Are you not the people

Who try to erase my beauty

By telling me bad things about my people

After collapsing them

Stripping them of their culture and heritage

And you still praise the crimes

Of your people

Evidence hangs proud in your museums

The food you eat

The rugs under your feet

Your people are glorified thieves

And we are your oblivious victim

Who see no out of your world

Who hold on to the values

Of our dear grandparents

Even when you didn't let them on the same bus

As your people

They didn’t give up on their dreams

Of a better life

So why should we

I am not ready

I am full of fear

I am not ready

You are already here

I

Am not Ready

My eyes shed a tear

In the garden here comes my girl Violet

Her dress a striking blue

Her eyes a sinful green

Kissable lips a bloody red

You would be tempted to

Lock her away in a faraway keep

No dragon or curse could save me

She is the only one I’d ever set my longing gaze at

The only one I'd hold in my arms

I'd study her research her at arm's length

I'd kiss her every second mad if I don't

With everything I am I'll make this work

Cinnamon Girl - Lana Del Rey

"Violet, blue, green, red to keep me at arm's length don't work"