That's me in the middle
In the middle of the world
Just as everyone else
Is in the centre of their's
And we'll never meet
Or even live in the same climate
A thousand miles to west or east
And yet
By the grace of various miracles
Your words may move me
And hopefully, mine will move you
To defy distance and differences

                                                    By Phil Roberts

We are the *******, we are the spicks.
We are the kykes, we are the hicks.
We're the one's who wait our turn,
To read the books you wish to burn.

We are the honkies, the mussies with guns.
We are the beaten, the poor and the dumb.
We see the horrors, the mistrust and the hate.
We are the people, the ones who relate.

We are the chinks, the bindis, the *****.
We are the losers, the mixed and the muts.
We are alone, left to fight.
We are the ones crying at night.

We are the triggers, set on the gun.
We are the fighters, refusing to run.
We see the world through darkened glass.
We see each other as mutants to pass.

If only we learn, it could be done...
We are all different, but we are all one.

By: Cedric McClester

A Muslim goes to pray
At any mosque on any day
Which is not meant to convey
The things their critics have to say
I don’t know if you’re aware
Despite the way it may appear
A mosque is just a house of prayer
You’re not indoctrinated there

So wasted time is being spent
Looking at which mosque a terrorist went
That don’t give you the slightest hint
As to why he became so bent
You are more likely to find
The source that captured his warped mind
Somewhere down the dial on line
That’s how he became so blind

Nowhere in Qu’ranic teaching
Will you find what they are preaching
It’s a matter of them reaching
Their own ends while they are breeching
Everything that Islam stands for
Which put simply they ignore
Though that’s the badge they wore
While acting in ways Muslims abhor

They can bastardize the text
And baffle some folk’s intellects
By ignoring the balances and checks
That the Islamic religion projects
And it’s easy enough to fall
If there’s no foundation at all
You might answer anyone’s call
Who can reinterpret and enthrall












Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2015. All rights reserved.