IRC-Galleria

"Dear white fella,

Coupla things you should know.
When I born, I black
When I grow up, I black
When I go in sun, I black
When I cold, I black
When I scared, I black
When I sick, I black
And when I die, I black

And you white fella,

When you born, you pink
When you grow up, you white
When you go in sun, you red
When you cold, you blue
When you scared, you yellow
When you sick, you green
When you die, you grey

And you calling me coloured?"

-POEM BY AN AFRICAN MAN-

I hate the way you talk to me,
and the way you cut your hair.

I hate the way you drive my car.
I hate it when you stare.

I hate your big dumb combat boots,
and the way you read my mind.

I hate you so much it makes me sick;
it even makes me rhyme.

I hate it,
I hate the way you're always right.

I hate it when you lie.

I hate it when you make me laugh,
even worse when you make me cry.

I hate it that you're not around,
and the fact that you didn't call.

But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you.

Not even close,
not even a little bit,
not even at all.