Race Riot

I stand behind in the abyss watching the dehumanization of my people.

We are called the lesser, not considered a human being, animals.

We stand in fear, frozen.

We stand in sorrow, defeated.

We stand in anger, screaming.

Being black is hard, it takes a strong person to love their black self in the face of America.

She who defines us as the lesser.

She who allows the degrading laws, acts, words, hate, discrimination against us.

What did we do to deserve this?

We are born into a society who wishes us gone.

However, they brought us here in the first place?

Why don’t I know who I am, or where I come from except the words “Negro,” “Slave,” “Monkey,” “Animal,” and “Africa.”

What does this mean?

Am I in debt to some horrible deed committed in a previous life? Am I in debt to you my lord? To what end does this torture go?

America why do you lie?

You say this is the land of the free and the home of the brave, but I am not free nor brave.

I am scared, and separated in punishment to please the whiter of individuals.

Whom, by the way, enslaved my people for over 200 years.  

What to all happened to all men are created equal, America?

I do not feel equal.

Does the red represent our blood?

Does the blue represent our tears?

Does the white represent the ones who oppressed us for profit for hundreds of years?

The riot of the races stands before my eyes. And I stand behind in the abyss asking America,

Why?

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
My country
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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