For Our Native Americans
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I am from a city
A city full of colored faces and still filled with their own discrimination and racism
What does it matter?
The race of them, it doesn't matter,
They continue to try to make a fool out of me.
Roaming In the hallways not quite belonging
Squeezing Into a space, where there was never place
I am not alone In this daily struggle
how you say, Hello! in American? I am your
guest
and Hao is also my father's name
born foreign new jersey california carolina lemon drop that's
yellowface to you my friend but its
Natural disasters are spiking like a bed of nails
Dead bodies dangle from the ceiling, falling from seasons like snowflakes
No stories are the same
Spread your wings, warrior
