Tuesday, December 18, 2001

poem.. 9-11 backlash..

it makes me mad,,
to know that i am not free in the land of the free..
,, to know that just becuse of my brownish skin I am hated
and no longer a human.

I hope you cry and feel as bad i as i do
but a part of me wants to reach out and hug you to tell you
i'm sorry and that maybe if you gave me a chance i could help you too.

But dammit.. how can i help you if all you do if close your mind?
why don't you stop
and look
and use your heart before it turns cold.

All my friends are in dark sad, depressed mood..
it wasn't their fault either.

what can i say to make you understand that i do not want to deal with this?
I'm letting you know that the crime of judgmet is so cruel and unfair
judging someone by the color of their hair..

where do you come from?
Are we in hell?
shall we all continue to burn?

Do i get mad, or sad, or ignore the fact that people are still being killed
everywhere for the same reason?
am i am a women..

It makes me mad to know yu lie to yourself
to know you are not true to yourself..
that you lie, and decive to achive..
Beacuse you fear, and destroy what you can not conquer..

I hope you fail,
and fail you will from your own faulty bliss

Don't you see?
I live away from me
I see clearly

why are you stuck in you?
what do you hold so precious
when you deny beings the right to live,

as if you had that right.
Maybe when you are hunted
you feel that feeling to know its not your fault
that stupid people travel in mass groups
maybe then..
you'll undertsand a bit.

Maybe You need to breath and know that if you kill
there isn't any way you'll goto your version of heaven.

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