Terrorists and Thugs- We Are the Youth

People label each other, it's what they do.

They label him, her, me, and you.

I am not a terrorist, and my black friend is not a thug.

But we are the last anyone would approach for a hug.

 

We are looked at as nothing but dirt.

They'll never know our pain, our hurt.

In a country based off a million pretenses,

We have become nature's greatest offenses.

 

I am a Muslim. I love, I trust, and I worship my lord.

They do not like my religion. It is often ignored.

Yet there are a thousand wars, many civilians slain.

Americans do not understand a foreigner's pain.

 

Our home countries are attacked and slaughtered,

But these people are concerned about their gardens being watered.

They don't see the real world because they don't care.

They don't even know under what God they swear.

 

America may be the land of the brave, but not the land of the free.

If we were truly free, Michael Brown's death- how can it be?

I speak with no filter because I was assigned to do so.

But my actual feelings are just too much to show.

 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
My country
Our world

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741