America

The gold of her promise, has never been mined

Her borders of justice, not clearly defined

Her crops of abundance, the fruit and the grain

Have not fed the hungry, nor eased the deep pain

Her proud declarations, are leaves on the wind

Her southern exposure, black death did befriend

Discover this country, dead centuries cry

Erect noble tablets, where none can decry

“She kills her bright future and rapes for a sou

Then entraps her children with legends untrue”

I beg you

Discover this country.

– Maya Angelou