The money comes from other’s pain
And goes to healing other’s pain
I do not cause the pain
I simply take it’s photograph
I search the pain out in small towns
And hidden city parks
Some towns so proud
Some towns ashamed
But few take steps
To put the pain away
And so I search it out
And photograph this ancient pain
Bottle it and sell it off
To those who relish it
And each time it sells I wonder
Should I keep doing this?
But take their money either way
And teach children art, science and nature
And spit in those old racists eyes
And have perhaps the last images
Of racists dreams
And my friends fears.
