I am here 

or maybe there

I don't know or

maybe I do know.

I look at you 

or maybe the side of you who doesn't think twice before hurting 

before suffocating with hate that loves my insecurities.

I don't look at you 

or maybe the side that you think you are always right

but as my hand is raised to show my passion 

you turn around 

addicted to silence,

Influenced by hatred,

controled by power and injustice

prejudice skin 

Wishing you could see beyond the spectrum.

As I speak up and tell you my struggles

you go off limits to the wind and whisper

Why do you have an accent?