From the Desk of Grandma Wisdom


It has to be over, open your eyes and see,

All laid out on the table for you and for me.

We heard your story from the beginning of time,

Try to quietly listen if you want to hear mine.

Why do you hate me when I tell of my pain?

Why do you hate me? Does it make you face your shame?

We couldn’t show our anger, ‘cause it was against the law,

Your hate, it seems, was always our fault.

We stood helpless and took it without a fight;

Now listen while I tell you, your hate was never right.

By Thelma Williams ‘aka Grandma Wisdom