"You don't look smart"
Charcoal hands darker than the sands of time you find in caverns alive in the blackest of mines. Where diamonds shine only to be stolen and controlled then by men from seas far away.
You say I don't resemble a poet.
Does my face not show it? The lines that mark thine own are grown from hatred and being deprived of the divine. They always keep what's mine, yet find a way to blame me for the shame of poverty. Like the stars they see weren't raised up from what used to be my races prosperity.
You say I don't look like I write.
In the sight of the world full of colorful boys and girls twirling on celestial whirls of gas and space. You say my face doesn't resemble the race you that can describe the way the sun shines or how your laughter matches mine or how my now is detached from your then with the twirl of a pen?
You say I don't look creative?
Like art was bereft from the natives and what's left is a nation of faceless masons building in uniform spaces? Because the pyramids are as simple as your petty thoughts? Or that any medieval building could compare to a single pre-colonial ziggurat?
You thought we teach hatred.
Like we lead a nation, full of races with endlessly colorful faces that all mistake their individuality for mediocrity? How can they not see that certain standards of beauty have truly deprived young girls of hope while boys try to cope with a future as shaky as the system that controls them?
Is it my face that dictates the pace you follow me in the stores? Although my hands are in my pockets and my eyes on the floor? We try to ignore but the more time flies we find your kind will send us into the skies with a kick at our door and blood splashing onto the floors.
I pray for brighter shores. Our hearts are sore and peace seems as futile as keeping my hands up and crying "no more." There's only so much hate a people can take without declaring war. And as cathartic as the notion seems the fallout will certainly cease not only my peace but also yours.
s
YOU ARE READING
A Rant
PoetryA personal poem that is made up of comments the author has received and general responses to it. This poem can be seen as a rant of sorts and may have additional chapters added to it.
