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| 5 10 15 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 | It's bad to have many persons too many persons too happy too long there must be something that rubs them the wrong way thousands of rubs another thousands of itches and bites it's untrue to have them smile say I'm fine because you know they are not I've known many persons too many persons who say "I'm fine. I am all right." then go home to lie awake on empty bellies listening to their children scream and cry for food I've known persons too many persons defenseless who spend their days in want their nights in tears longing for relief to come hoping the new day will come wishing that it not come yes I have known many mothers too many mothers who sent their young boys to slave for cruel men men who kicked them men who stepped on them for crumbs of bread for grains of rice but one day one of these long days these mothers will not have to those cruel men who ride those big, long cars will disappear from their high pedestals their big, long cars will disappear with them their false pride their false sense of being will disappear with them the people will claim that which is rightfully theirs the people will be free to enjoy life, to live their lives simply their daughters will not have to suffer the indignities of being abused by these sinister creatures creatures who call themselves 'civilised men' riding big, long, black cars the days of the big, long, black cars will be over over forever |
Khasu, Kona. “Things I Know.” The Seeds of Time: A Collection of Poems. Mimeographed typescript. Monrovia, 1971. 42–43.
| Line | Typescript | Changed to |
| 13 | [after "all": double space] | [after "all": single space] |
