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PoetryofAtticism
PoetryofAtticism
A privilege of white That I carry within, Feels like burden to me Of which I cannot get rid. It is sorrowful That I can’t understand, What it feels to be judged On the color of skin Nor to walk on With fear and concern, When the ones that protect you Are the ones that will **** They took power themselves, Leaving unheard ones behind, Ignoring the change, which Nation’s people demand. Damage will not be undone When there’s hearts teared apart, And there’s no one to hear them Seems - humanity’s gone.
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Jun 8, 2020
Jun 8, 2020 at 5:51 PM UTC
On the color of skin