My son walks in circles
Whenever he is free;
Yet such a silly thing
Is quite powerful to me.
The world is open for us,
Information to be found,
Yet most of us walk circles
With our eyes upon the ground.
But unlike my brave boy,
We keep our circles small.
As long as this is so,
Nothing will improve at all.
There are many folk whose circles
Were broadened very young.
Latin, Black, and Native voices
Had to learn the white man’s tongue.
Yet when the white is asked
To recognize that this is so,
They keep their eyes upon the ground;
Their circle will not grow.
I beg you now, dear Friend,
Fight to make your circle wide.
It won’t always be pretty,
But only then can all abide.
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