A long way from home (poem in progress)

Why do I hear white voices in my melodies?
People who have hardly witnessed the horrors of New Orleans
sing with their mother and father kissing them good night before the setting sun.
Sometimes I feel like this world ain't going to change.
So I run, and keep running, till I'm finally away from the river.
Yet when I tune into the Voice, there he is front and center
White man, dreaded and sharing his porridge with me.
The mute button is my only carriage.
Still I'm a Rottweiler in heat, not hunting for no rabbit
Though you'll have your Samoyed pup becoming friends with everyone.
Sometimes I feel like this world ain't going to change.
But you knew that already huh? Because you claim the ceiling can't hold us.
So instead you'll let the entire building collapse on us. Then build a Grammy out of the
debris for your own showcase.  I'm not poor. You're not poor. Neither of us shopped at the thrift shop for
          our red carpet outfits.
But we got no culture right? And it ain't might culture right? I'll tell ya minorities in New York City are fed
Louis, Miles, Nina, Aretha, Nat, The Drifters and then Billy Joel.
But only some of them got titles. Only some of them are heard loud. I guess I'll just raise the volume up.