privilege
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We are many shades lighter
But carry the most darkness
Complicit in the genocide
Of those who look different
Poetry has taught me
That I am lucky to be free.
I am lucky that I may speak,
That I may sleep,
That I may breathe.
Let's have a race,
Just you and I.
You run at your pace,
And watch me fly.
This race is fair,
I start here,
And you start back there.
Is that clear?
This race is clean,
Let’s go back to times of peace.
Times when women didn’t have to fear walking alone in the dark just to go home,
And children didn’t have to fear their lives while learning how to read and do math,
In an ideal world
we wouldn’t have world hunger,
whole cities wouldn’t be down under,
we wouldn’t have to wonder,
"When will this all end?",
"Are you really my friend?",
My mind is an ever-evolving ball of guilt and shame
Every thought twists and turns, leaps and lunges, crosses and curves
Every time I catch one two others take its place
I’m only sixteen
Dear Malcolm,
In some parts of the world,
Light shines brighter than in others,
Shade-divided world.
Under bright light,
The World of Bi is an interesting place
For all is divided into two
One is treated like gold
The Other is treated a fly- Shoo!
One is the standard
That all must adhere
We the people
We the people divided
We the people alienated
We the varied
We the broken.
We who break each other down
and hide behind the pieces.
We who have bled,
Dear White People...
tell me you understand
band together
in time of umbra
ban together
and stuff me in bras
I live in fear
That one day
One day
We will die
No, not just one
All of us.
I Live in fear
Knowing that
every single human on this earth has a purpose. every person has a complex and complete thought process and emotional reservoir that is utilized on a daily basis. every person has a mother, father, some have sisters and brothers.
Both my parents are immigrants I have no choice.
They put everything on the line for me to have the oppurtunities I have.
White kids love talking about following their dreams.
Even if ain't not money in them.
At 12:49 in the morning, I am asking myself why I write. Why do I write songs? Why do I write essays? Why do I write letters to my loved ones?
At 12:52, I am answering;
I am allowed. I am able.
Sometimes all it takes is one. Two is a couple and three is a crowd, but one is the difference that you need to separate between a few and many. Many revolutions grew from a few select thoughts ignited by action like gunpowder to flame.
Right now,
I can see it every time I open my eyes.
Murder. Rape. Suicide.
So used to the weight on our shoulders,
we think nothing of these heavy boulders.
And right now,
The little girl's mother
is dragged away and raped.
The little boy at the age of four,
is taught how to use a grenade.
The father is beaten for speaking out,
the mother walks miles for a drink.
America
just some island Columbus "found" in 1942
the place where we covet what doesn't belong to us
where we try to obliverate what ever is not the same as us
Echo, you privilege soul
Stand by as I pillage your home
Watch as they rave your condemnation
We have yet to live.
My very favorite comfort in life is closing my door,
Not dealing with the judgment that opinions deliver,
Living safe in a hollow home of maybes and seems.
They teach us to weave our fingers
To create intricate patterns in our hair.
To adorn the onlooker’s eyes.
Creating superficial monsters,
Policed by superficial consumers.
Killer, the killers of innocent lives...
Mothers that don't want to be
Mothers'. Decisions to kill
A life not wanted to be
Still a mother nonetheless...
Mother of a hopeful baby...
Imagine a world with no sense of privilege, no sense of self betterment, no sense of egocentrism.
If everyone were the same, then no one would feel downtrodden.
Everyone would feel the obligation to help one another.
There is a difference between a right and a privilege; a right can never be taken away from you, no matter what.
Dr. King and Rosa Parks are a part of our history/ But that's not enough, alot of us are still left in mystery
We yearn to know, more and more bout how our people have grown/ But in school they think it's cool for only us to know....
There are things that breakI have 4% left on my computerand shaking my head to Book of Jamesby We Are Augustines.It was a privilege to know youTo hold you in my thoughtsmy prayers
What am I without pain?
Without discrimination, without hardship?
Yet without the talent, the ability
For riches, fame, love-
Who exactly am I-
a person tuck in the middle
Feeling like a nonentity
break out
Of bounds; set the standards around
What others cannot
Trouble inbound; bein followed
Back to the roots, the home,
the starting point
disjointed from the hip
