Why do people cower when they see a black man on the street
when, statistically, I'm more likely to be a psychopath than any black man you'll meet?
I do so appreciate when people commit the sin
of judging a man by the color of his skin -
it so easily disguises the truth when all they see
is the color of my skin and not the real me.
So when you're stuck on that cold, lonely roadside
and you silently thank God I stopped to offer a ride
enjoy your sense of relief
breathe out, put on a smile
and though it shatters your every belief -
you'll be dead within a mile.
Sit next to me, talk with me, be dazzled by my charm
nothing in my demeanor will raise any alarm.
I've learned how to hide, to cover and disguise
the killer that lives behind my eyes.
I live for the moment when the innocents finally realize
that I am the bogey man, the one that you should fear
not that black man your refused to look in the eyes
and the stab of my knife makes that so clear.
Definitely intrigued.
ReplyDeleteJust about my favorite poem to read out loud at a meetup. Ensures no one asks me for a ride home.
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