Lovely that we get to live here.
Grateful for the hard work of someone else, For Chance
I don’t believe in chance I believe in purpose
The belief in self-made men (Sometimes women)
The archetype of an American Tends to visualize
I am an American And I tend to visualize
Light skin, dancing, uniqueness only in the presence of sameness
And I am grateful for the women who won suffrage
And I am grateful for the women who kept fighting
Until their brown skin too Had suffrage
I am not grateful That history has repeated itself
Become self-contained We need not let go of the past
When we live in it Human rights called into question
Every moment the question of whether someone deserves
To marry the mere fact that there is a debate
Over If healthcare is a human right
Hypocrisy Is rampant
Was there really integrity in the “good old days”
Was there truly less consumerism, self-absorption
Or was there just less diversity, less progressiveness, to ridicule
Were there no flaws to take into account
Or are the good old days romanticized
In an effort to continue the subhuman treatment?
More about avoiding the label of being a racist then taking into account unconscious prejudice
More about parading culture as a fashion statement while disappearing when the culture is mocked
Or disrespected. Perverted. Choked. Ignored
Now the rhetoric flows in the direction of
“We are all part of the human race.” Sounds
Nice. Like that saying. The one that teaches
Us to be grateful. Don’t trust the hand that
chokes the mouth. Doesn’t let you breathe
Then demands you be grateful. You thugs,
You terrorists, you abominations, you cripple
You should move on. Be the bigger person.
Don’t be a sore loser. Americans fight for
Their rights. Are these really the words of an American?
I see a hypocrite and his self-made rhetoric.
I see no time to be angry in this world that
Values white lives and brown lives the so
Disproportionately. Then pats itself on the
Back. This is not new, in idea or in practice.
History will not be forgotten by those it has
Hurt. Genocide and internment camps will
Not be forgotten. The internet has given us
A breathing tube. A half broken one but
We are used to it. Use to any and all denial
Of privilege, blame or reparations. I say
That I know the pain not because
I want to simplify us all to the
human race but because I want
to honor the sacrifice and
protest called getting up
in the morning And
defending oneself in
a relentless world
that was not created
for brown Muslim
Girls like me.
For Americans like me.
And there is
Not one story
To this building.