At times
I have made light
of their crimes,

turned grievous wounds
into weak bee stings
so you could see these things
in softer shades than me.

I have turned night into day
and watched those I love
dance and play
embraced by beautiful rays
while I stay awake
in the darker hours.

I have used poetry and levity
to elevate strangers above me
despite our shared suffering.

I have scoffed at my pain,
lay bleeding to death
while I stifled tears and dressed
pin ****** and paper cuts.

I have felt your sorrow,
and put your comfort
above my well-being,
but now I am seeing
that it might not have been
the right thing to do,

because you
have gotten far too fat and lazy
laying in the excrement
of your own ignorance.

Though, I have doubted much,
I do not doubt this,
and I am tired of trying to educate
those who no longer wish
or have never even desired
to be better than
the racist redneck men
who inspired them
to give in to fear and hate.