Some of our neighbours just have dazzling souls,
Having conversations with them, really being able to see them, feels like reaching goals.
Funny enough, some of them act as if their souls are controlled by trolls, when looking it's like their eyes poke holes,
And trying to have a conversation feels like walking upon burning hot coals.
No, I don't seek your pity nor your utmost greedy cheque,
But you have to know, my feet are burned black,
Knowing even wolves live in a caring pack.
From ashes to ashes, we're all really in need of a reality check.
We live in a time where we base the beauty of a rose on erred norms,
Defected by society, making sure every'body preforms,
Do they even care about newborns - getting pricked by society's thorns?
Not the right time yet? To blast those horns.
You tend to look at a person's skincolor,
As if you have a special scale, keep the change - I don't want a dollar.
Acting like you instantly know; that black man - not a chance of becoming a scholar.
For real, your fading colors couldn't get any duller.
A time where it is believed decent,
For your mom fighting - to finally earn daddy's half a cent.
This all smells terrible, we're clearly in need to vent,
But you just keep on going, spreading this toxic scent.
And why on earth are you declaring war against this 'cloth' upon my head?
Let me tell you; the negative you've misread.
Why didn't you ask me about these woven threads instead?
Cause trust me, the story I'm proudly wearing is something you eagerly want to embed.