THE GOLD CROSS By: Dominique fezell
To walk in back then with no remarks
To not hear “no n******gs allowed”
To pull out money that you worked hard for years to make
And spend it on things of your choice
Without being told that “colored folks don't shop here”
Looking through the clean and clear gla**
Spotting out the most gorgeous gold cross never looking to the next
The old lady is asked by the white j**eler
“What can I help you with?”
“yes'em sir I wanna get that there gol' cra**”
You heard nothing but the sounds of street cars
“We don't sell to colors”
Was not the response “yes ma'am”
The white j**eler with joy
That gold still fresh, still new, still free
Still shines today on my neck
Pa**ed down from generation to generation
The freedom of having choices still shines.
Just like that gold cross from the white j**eler.