With the stroke of a pen

They made me white

After all I could pass

Why would I want to be different

So my heritage was hidden

It would not matter, right

I was a red headed lass

A sad message was sent

I would not fit quite right

No matter how much time did pass

They could not know what would happen

When I see an eagle in flight

Across a glorious mountain pass

This unnatural concealment

Is just not at all right

To be absorbed into the general mass

Would never happen

For I am not white

Though I can pass

My soul will be rent

Rearing itself unbidden

My soul will quicken

My history unspoken

I see you.... amazing, beautiful, spirit of angels,

(((((Mary))))) I agree with Denise..... I see you, too.