Red, Yellow, Black, and White (a poem of greatest inspiration)
As a small child, I was taken to church, each Sunday, and to Sunday School,
We were taught that our god loves us all, to sing his songs,The Golden Rule.
My favorite and the one to mean so much, about our Jesus, his love of us all,
Red,Yellow, Black, and white, all precious in his sight, each to respect this call.
I never knew just how much it so meant, the special times at church, I spent,
My grandfather preached, until heaven he reached, for this I'm so glad I went.
Later, almost grown, as I held a dying friend, I remembered my song just then.
How it hurt my heart, all of this world we're a part, was then my journey to begin.
I struggled to finish school, graduating at last, as I remembered that golden rule,
Applied for work as a teacher, while old friends loafed, to gamble and shoot pool.
Soon worked with many children in need, recalling those scriptures every night,
My kids came from many backgrounds, their colors red, yellow, black and white,
Then came that old war, Vietnam, many good men died, for Uncle Sam,
They were soldiers from every walk of life, parents got the same telegram.
Each soldier's soul was raised, joined in unison, flew to the heaven's light,
Not to matter their spiritual colors, that of the red, yellow, black, and white.
As for the sweet children of this world, allow their own banners to be unfurled,
Reading all colors beloved as one, each daughter, every son, as all lie curled.
Every father, every mother, loving sister and brother, have homes on this earth,
Red, yellow. black or white, all one color in god's sight, and all of equal worth.
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