The mirror on the wall may as well **** me,
What stares back is not at all what I wanted to be.
My head’s not held high,
My wings of hope are stripped, and I’ll no longer fly.

They rolled me in bubble wrap and locked me in this box.
Foxes- yet they call themselves cops.
They stamped the box and labeled me “FRAGILE”.
Ripped me of my dignity and cursed me all this while.

It’s just feeding with the wolves-
The lambs come and they devour them whole.
FRAGILE- their little bones break.
I didn’t see it before, but now I think I’m awake.

So as it goes, they stack the boxes against the wall.
Shut away from reality in a little room at the end of the hall.
The wolves feed with foxes, they prey on the lambs.
And though the fox might not ****, there’s enough blood on his hands.

File away the papers, and they’ll deem it so,
As long as they’re quiet, than no one shall know.
Toss out the keys so the cries go unheard,
After all, there’s no reason to ***** the rest of the herd.

A lamb corrupted grows to a sheep,
Stripped of her wool, she no longer sleeps.

If you speak for her cause,
You already know that all hope is lost.
You’ve seen it before, or taken a blow to the head
Or something much worse and you wish you were dead.

Have you seen him?
The boy
tears running down his face like a shower head
Have you seen him?
the boy
rocking back and forwards like a metronome
Have you seen him?
wringing his neck
dangling from the tree in his closet
Have you seen it?
that tree
the tree that has hung infinite bodies
soiled in rules and norms
seeds of hate and malice
planted by those who hate us
Have you seen it?
the blood of our sisters and brothers
our black brothers and sisters
our native brothers and sisters
our latinx
our brown
our gay
our lesbian
our bi
our trans brothers and sisters
Don't you see it?
We exist on this same tree
divided

We are allowed to be unkind
To the sick, the deaf and the blind.
We gladly toss them into a ditch.
They don't matter; They are not rich.
We giggle and count what we’ve got
Laugh uproariously at those who have not.
We call our poor neighbors our inferiors
Because having money makes one superior.

It also works the same with every race.
Supremacy is about the color of your face.
It starts there and moves to include nationality.
Only Caucasian Americans match our reality.
Sure non-whites can pick our cotton for us
But, as for equality, the concept will bore us.
It says in the Bible you have to be from here
And white and Protestant, those words are clear.

And this stuff about **** and lesbians too
Not one word of that civil rights stuff is true.
My preacher told me gay people are abomination.
That’s why us Republicans support segregation.
That's some of what is wrong with our schools
Somebody has been listening to communist fools.
We need to get back to the good way things were
Before all this equality stuff was allowed to occur.

I tell you the truth, this stuff totally makes me burn.
I mean, these college-warped hippies need to learn
That this country is a Christian one, since beginning
So, we don’t want this equality stuff you’re selling.
Just shine our shoes and park our expensive cars
And we’ll tip you a little bit and there you are;
Right there in the place all of you ought to be;
Freedom is for us rich whites, it’s American history.

Poetic minds are islands often found
In common reaches of the status quo
And in remote and deeper waters
Of vox humana in muted undertow.