Free men die.

Free men die
Shackles through  their necks and arms
From a far, in  the unfriendly sea of the world,
You can hear them cry
Their color,  all  evil lies in it
Even black cats are considered to be omen
And all they have in will
Is  to live like other men
But they die by the bullet for no reason
Their blood, just like yours is crimson.
     By Paulo.