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One White Friend
Lee Harris
Why is it, we as blacks can’t have a club that is just for us?
Why must police always interrupt us?
It’s not like we’re asking for something new.
Remember the sign that read?
“No Coloreds Allowed”?
Well I guess we were the fools to ever invite you.
Didn’t know we had it so good without you.
African men and women, singing and dancing all on rhythm;
Then here you come trying to fit in, pretending to be a Negro’s friend.
Take a moment to look at my view when all other nationalities are free to do the same thing I’m
asking of you.
They have their own clubs, clothing line, grocery stores and more.
They’re left to maintain their culture.
They have continued education on their history.
And guess what?
You’re not clinging to them.
I understand you want to be my one white friend.
But be yourself don’t try so hard to fit in.
You can never be as black as me.
No matter how much you try to educate your minds.
On the same black history you made us leave behind.
I remember the day it all began.
The day the first white girl walked in.
It was a Sista that she claimed to be her girl friend.
She carried herself like she was a queen.
That one white girl intended on taking my Sista’s man.
Before the night was through I saw that white girl behind the DJ booth committing sin.
Rumor had it; she had been with a few.
The men were all whispering.
She had talent, and didn’t mind doing it with more than two.
That was only the beginning of her plan to steal our black men.
And drain our minds of our culture and music too.
That night she didn’t get my Sista's man.
But instead she took his best friend.
Weeks went by and this sista didn’t see her white friend.
But when she re-emerged it was with a big fat grin.
Asking,
“What are you cooking tonight?” and “What would you like me to bring?”
My sista didn’t you know?
She came to find out how to cook her new black man collard greens?
But it couldn’t stop there, because she hadn’t a clue how to either cook ethnic foods or how to
embrace his culture.
For to her this was something new.
I don’t need to tell you what came next.
Yes, she asked my sista, to teach her how to braid his nappy hair.
But that was your one white friend.
Friendly and giving to you, till the end, so she pretends.
All the time she was running back to her own kind.
Telling them stories of being wined and dine by our black men.
Not to mention how she was getting his good loving all the time.
I tried to tell my Sister’s.
Who adapted the roll of having white girl friends?
Tried to tell them she is only out to play you and take your men.
Tried to teach them not to be so quick giving up control over everything they did together and
where they went.
I asked my sistas
“Didn’t you noticed she never wanted you around her other white friends?”
She no longer want to be with them.
Said she couldn’t stand her own white men.
She said their man hood was to short.
Stated, that they were boring little dorks.
I admit I have one white friend.
But I was point blank.
I wasn’t going to teach her how to take our black men.
Wasn’t even going to show her how to make corn bread I told her to buy some jiffy instead.
O’ she would continue to ask for years
How to cook beans, chitterlings, and collard greens
But I wasn’t no fool I played along, allowed her to be the teacher while I went to school.
I took her under my arms and introduced her selectively to my kind but when I went out to my
clubs.
You better believe she got left behind.
Continue
Lee Harris
Why is it, we as blacks can’t have a club that is just for us?
Why must police always interrupt us?
It’s not like we’re asking for something new.
Remember the sign that read?
“No Coloreds Allowed”?
Well I guess we were the fools to ever invite you.
Didn’t know we had it so good without you.
African men and women, singing and dancing all on rhythm;
Then here you come trying to fit in, pretending to be a Negro’s friend.
Take a moment to look at my view when all other nationalities are free to do the same thing I’m
asking of you.
They have their own clubs, clothing line, grocery stores and more.
They’re left to maintain their culture.
They have continued education on their history.
And guess what?
You’re not clinging to them.
I understand you want to be my one white friend.
But be yourself don’t try so hard to fit in.
You can never be as black as me.
No matter how much you try to educate your minds.
On the same black history you made us leave behind.
I remember the day it all began.
The day the first white girl walked in.
It was a Sista that she claimed to be her girl friend.
She carried herself like she was a queen.
That one white girl intended on taking my Sista’s man.
Before the night was through I saw that white girl behind the DJ booth committing sin.
Rumor had it; she had been with a few.
The men were all whispering.
She had talent, and didn’t mind doing it with more than two.
That was only the beginning of her plan to steal our black men.
And drain our minds of our culture and music too.
That night she didn’t get my Sista's man.
But instead she took his best friend.
Weeks went by and this sista didn’t see her white friend.
But when she re-emerged it was with a big fat grin.
Asking,
“What are you cooking tonight?” and “What would you like me to bring?”
My sista didn’t you know?
She came to find out how to cook her new black man collard greens?
But it couldn’t stop there, because she hadn’t a clue how to either cook ethnic foods or how to
embrace his culture.
For to her this was something new.
I don’t need to tell you what came next.
Yes, she asked my sista, to teach her how to braid his nappy hair.
But that was your one white friend.
Friendly and giving to you, till the end, so she pretends.
All the time she was running back to her own kind.
Telling them stories of being wined and dine by our black men.
Not to mention how she was getting his good loving all the time.
I tried to tell my Sister’s.
Who adapted the roll of having white girl friends?
Tried to tell them she is only out to play you and take your men.
Tried to teach them not to be so quick giving up control over everything they did together and
where they went.
I asked my sistas
“Didn’t you noticed she never wanted you around her other white friends?”
She no longer want to be with them.
Said she couldn’t stand her own white men.
She said their man hood was to short.
Stated, that they were boring little dorks.
I admit I have one white friend.
But I was point blank.
I wasn’t going to teach her how to take our black men.
Wasn’t even going to show her how to make corn bread I told her to buy some jiffy instead.
O’ she would continue to ask for years
How to cook beans, chitterlings, and collard greens
But I wasn’t no fool I played along, allowed her to be the teacher while I went to school.
I took her under my arms and introduced her selectively to my kind but when I went out to my
clubs.
You better believe she got left behind.
Continue