Those might look at us,
walk past and cringe.
Though we are the ones who helped enlighten the sky's of darkness,
we are put back in.
Though we all have the same relation,
but different pigmentation,
And maybe occupation,
Though we are same.
But I laugh at the foolish ones.
Who have forgotten where they stand today.
Foolish ones are ones of no originality , no roots, no texture.
The foolish are ones who paint themselves a different color to mask, to mimic the other.
The foolish are the ones who dance in pride in knowing they have won taking one of our own down.
But I laugh at the foolish ones.
I cringe to remember these foolish ones still walk down our streets,
White robes and all.
Waiting for the next to fall.
Or chanting "lives matter for all!"
As if we don't know.
But my educated mind forgot when your people were systematically oppressed.
And was mocked for the way their hair was dressed.
And was lynched and beaten, treated like an unwanted pest.
How many will it take to shine light on our corrupted system.
We got police slaughtering my people like its an everyday task,
But don't have the chance to bask,
The evidence we beg for and ask,
But find a way to mask,
The white men and women wearing their masque.
--Jaan
