"interracial" poems
the frustration I had
after failing
to bring myself to ******
for the
tenth
time this past week
makes me more
furious
than depressed
seriously
my *** drive
has always been high
as soon as I
got over
the shame
society places on women
for enjoying
their sexuality
I have always used
************
as a release
relieves
stress
leaves me
relaxed
and
content
or should I say,
left me
feeling that way
usually
it was once a day
fairly frequent
but, it
matched
my *** drive's
needs
what the **** is wrong with me
I have tried
imagining,
watching,
reading,
looking at
every form
of erotica
that exists
I have searched
through everything
I can find
from
****
******
stories,
comics
and my search history
will let you know
that I've searched
everything
from
****
to
******
to
interracial lesbian forced *******
and things
worse
than that
e v e r y t h i n g
used to take me,
oh, I dunno
maybe three minutes
with my ********
after
around an hour
is when I give up
now
I even bought
a different
********
NO
RELEASE
NO
PASSION
GONE
what is
WRONG
WITH
ME
oh yeah -
depression
I mean
I knew it was bad
when video games
no longer
had appeal
that was enough
games
have been a passion
and a hobby of mine
since I was five
the other hobby
I started a bit older than five
but
you stole that one, too
after depression
beat the **** out of me
on Tuesday
I thought that was it
thought
since the next morning
I awoke
without the urge
to **** myself
it was over
nope
you have robbed me
of the simplest
things
in my life
that give me pleasure
no more
wriggling
moaning
spasming
the tingling
sensation
that starts in my toes
and makes its way
up
the length of my body
the warmness
that follows
with it
the
satisfaction
slight smile
snuggly
sleepy
post ****** me
I miss her
give her
back
I miss my life
give it
back
this isn't
ME
for ***** sake!
I am a ******
witty
humorous creature
full of passion
looking
for opportunities
to get myself off!
not this
depressed
apathetic
vessel
without soul.
you won't stop
until you have
everything
in my life
you won't stop
until you
put
my soul in your mouth
chew
grind
crush it
your saliva
breaks me down
spit me out
please
I am fighting
for you to cough me up
regurgitate
the essence
of me
let me put myself
back inside this body
please
please
no
you won't stop
you will eat my soul
until
ever fiber
protein
ounce of health
I had
is now
inside of you,
depression
cold-hearted *****
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 6:10 AM UTC
The last kiss from you
Lasted like a huddle in
The snow blitz
Rocking my anatomy
In the frosty glitz
The last words from you
That barged in my eardrum
You were in a hurry
To smell a new leaf
Draped in a diamond dew
The last gifts from you
Was an instrument
Which still I use
To recognize people
Or to refuse!
The last time
You said I love you
I remember I was laughing
Hysterically as if I was watching
Jared Leto’s jaded mimicry of Joker in YouTube
Intriguingly, when the last time I saw you ****
It felt like pretty Ivanka’s embarrassment
Noticing her dad is a lewd
The last time I was chatting
With you on Facebook
I was wondering why
I shouldn't hack your account?
To check your inbox
Yea, it was filled with the message of *******
F- Bombs, **** shaming and tagging you as harlot
All they were asking was your service of escort
Either in full discount or in hefty cash drops!
The last time I wrote
A letter of love to you
I discovered my Keyboard
Began to blurt out
No more, No more, No more…
The last time I had a chit-chat
With you in the Burger King or Pizza Hut
I listened to your hissing clack-clack
That someone else has become your puppy cat…
The last time I became sick
When I was with you
I heard you threw a party
Where you were whispering
To your besties, how
I become your double whammy!
The last time I was
With you in the bed
I felt like I was indentured
To **** a dummy toy
Sans spirit and flesh!
Loving you was like
Santa Claus gifted me
With a Pandora’s Box
As soon as I opened it
You decided to release
Our *** tape of your having ******
In pornhub’s forum of interracial!
The last time I heard of you
Is that you were giving an interview
To The Cosmopolitan’s board of review
Facing the barrage of inquisitions
You calmly joked, the series
Of latest uproar about you
In the social media or Internet
Is because certain people always
Love to rave about Women’s body
Shoving in and out of their pigeonhole
With their one night stand queen trophy
To flavor your form in their fantasmic mouth
You also smirked in a raspy voice
Defiantly declaring “we (women)
Have been locked indoors
With no air, no food, no water”
My last boyfriend is also no exception
He certainly thinks I came this far
Through ******* and deception
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 12:33 PM UTC
Existential cruelty of a long abandoned Friday
Remembered once, twice
then forgotten by 8 pm.
The shots of Chiraq and memories of Hatshepsut linger effortlessly on his doorstep in the dark of sunlight,
but smiles in his lap disappear on the pavement beneath skyscrapers
before the dead of noon.
His mind travels to the curvy bodies of Monroe types.
A palm, a fist, a thumb
caress ******* and legs before he wakes
to find hair on his pillow and lips in his face
where only days before a yellow sky and bright green eyes waved and faded.
And all because interracial pride and prejudice leaked toils and tensions in the face of Basquiat
Where once African princes and white German queens
spent Tuesday afternoons charming their ways into each others' beds
and sighing at the disgust stamped on the faces of strangers.
Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 11:43 PM UTC
There was a man on the bus
today
with hostile eyes...
steely blue and suspicious.
The thirty something woman
across from me;
with black eye and split lip,
her's were wet with tears and fear.
A young couple
only had eyes for each other.
Glistening
with love and desire.
The bigot’s eyes
were all a glower;
hostile and condemning...
The couple was interracial.
The old woman’s eyes
tired with many years,
looked back with memories
and forward to release.
The little child’s eyes
wide with wonder
took everything in,
grist for the mill.
As I wander from
face to face,
I wonder what stories
my eyes offer?
Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 7:43 AM UTC
There is ***** for sale and wombs for rent
For same *** couples it’s cash well spent.
While heterosexuals breed their own
Gay couples, as yet, cannot clone.
A lesbian couple who had the itch
is suing their ***** bank for “bait and switch”.
They wanted a Caucasian baby
and had requested ***** from vial “380”.
The donor of that ***** was white,
Handsome, smart, just “not their type”
They were given another’s ***** instead
And an interracial child was bred.
It seems they were given vial “330”
The vials, it seems, were marked unclearly.
An honest mistake by a nearsighted boomer?-
or one with a twisted sense of humor?
A civil suit will go to trial
seeking damages for a mixed race child.
If their motion to dismiss should meet denial
The “bank” will suffer premature withdrawal.
In which event bankruptcy looms
For the bank that supplies the ***** for wombs.
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 7:33 AM UTC
Sometimes I think
We speak different languages
Yours is so thick and harsh and punc-tu-a-ted,
And mine, mellow and soft and op-en-heart-ed.
When we walk around, people stare and glare,
Looking at some interracial couple
From the nineteen-twenties'
But you know what?
They're just freakin' tone-deaf;
Our harmonies are way too
Avant-garde
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 12:01 PM UTC
people -- blue jeans -- t-shirts -- volleyball -- sparklers -- *** its -- stone bridge -- pine trees -- new trees -- old trees -- fireworks -- grass -- sonic boom -- picnic chairs -- bicycles -- oak trees -- bare neck -- tickles -- sneezing -- bless you -- slight chill -- cloud cover -- police cars -- policemen -- uniforms -- night sticks -- sweat pants -- baby strollers -- skull & crossbones -- muscle shirt -- sweat shirt -- baseball caps -- fountains of sparks -- greenery -- dandelions -- yellow weeds -- wafting smoke -- black man in white shirt -- white man in black shirt -- SUV -- Boxer dog -- red wagon -- smoke stacks -- asian couple -- running shorts -- acrid smoke -- ice cream truck -- double trees -- pony tail -- mosquitos -- fishing hat -- yellow truck -- handlebar mustache -- bad *** attitude -- shaved head -- balloon -- barbeque -- sunset -- affro -- tennis shoes -- multi-colored hair -- canoe -- golden purse -- playing band -- American flag -- folding chair -- name badge -- red, white, & blue -- skipping rocks -- cargo shorts -- matching couple -- bike path -- hippie hair -- low rider -- peace sign -- golden chains -- waning moon -- waxed legs -- hoodies -- striped shirt -- victory dance -- short shorts -- cigar smoke -- watermelon -- Viking's bag -- leopard skin jacket -- skooter -- digital camera -- creepy stalker dude -- tent building -- horeshoes -- personal space invaders -- glow sticks -- picnic basket -- cooler -- smoke bombs -- plaid skirt -- 77 sweats -- interracial couples -- motorcycle -- orange vest -- plastic ball -- face paint -- cops in two different uniforms -- split tree -- pregnant lady -- trash talking horeshoe player -- street lamps -- playing tag -- large blue cooler -- bright green pants -- humorless boy
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 5:40 PM UTC
i know a place where there is no independence,
Opinions are controlled,well as your "character reference".
It is the place where structures are aero dynamic,
Members Believing that it would fly at the time of panic
The Social-Controller, political-hemophilia,
Millions have joined, expanding the mafia.
Polluted the minds of pioneers, --the low iQ'D,
Wise Child inherit your thy truth have been sued
The thoughts of your childhood was buried deep,
Teachings of the interracial grows in this creed.
It was emphasized, first time in my life,
Discrimination was a wound stabbed by a Knife.
I dont' believe, i can boldly state --
Man-made Cult hurted, roam from day to date.
Creed merged State, Politics, and inner feelings,
Was trespassed, influenced with imposed billings.
How come, you tell me that you can't --
Soul search, and start what you want.
It cuts my skin, when worse comes worst,
I'll go for the love, not with the CURSE!
Sep 2, 2010
Sep 2, 2010 at 5:58 AM UTC
I never really felt as if
my mother had it all together.
Her torch was
a brittle twig she couldn’t keep lit,
never enough stick to burn bright,
but just enough tip
for random flare-ups
violently fueled by
nobody knew what.
Her lack of light meant
she could not be trusted,
and her strained attempts at
love and affection felt like
a dream where
everyone’s speaking Japanese.
Her marriage to my father was
the modern day equivalent
of an interracial same *** marriage,
Catholics and Protestants
weren't supposed to mix,
and a toothless trumpet player
with an alcoholic bent
shouldn’t have lasted the honeymoon
with a spoiled, sheltered oldest child.
But father made it seem as if
they had it all together,
at least in public.
At home it was different,
he passed through our lives
like the winter wind,
everybody scrambling for cover
when he showed up.
He slept at odd hours
and worked and drank
and drank and worked,
blowing quickly from one
to the other,
never standing still long enough
to notice the demons at his heals,
the demons that took forever to catch him,
but not mother.
They caught her when I was quite young.
I could see them in her eyes
from a very early age and
father could see them too,
but he did nothing
to protect her.
They’ve been together
over 60 years now, overrun by what
I would call a thick purple nothingness –
an eerie, detached existence within
the smothering cadence of monotony,
yet somehow, unbelievably,
they still have hope.
Hope for God knows what
all they have is their
unspoken hatred of each
wrapped up in a make believe
so strong and lived so long
that their demons are now
a huge white elephant
lounging about the house
loosening their bed screws,
pounding on the bed springs,
moving through the vents
and interfering with
the reception of Catholic radio.
You might call it insanity,
I say everything that
once mattered to them is lost,
yet again,
they still have hope.
Meanwhile
we overachieving children
suffer our own maladies,
a misfit bunch of
dysfunctional lovers running so fast
we’ll be 80 before the demons catch us.
But who am I kidding?
From father to mother to me,
their demons have been my closest friends
as long as I can remember,
ever since the first day
I saw them in her eyes.
Jan 7, 2017
Jan 7, 2017 at 1:47 PM UTC
We all have been one in some shape or form.
Having an opinion of almost everyone.
We all have a family member.
Who life we don't agree with?
And that mainly when our judgment begins.
Which label us the judgmental people.
Until the script is turned back upon us.
Yes, we still have the try and truth.
Who lives by that taught golden rule?
If you can't say nothing good.
Then don't say anything at all.
We talk about people affairs.
We talk about the wayward child.
We talk about the interracial couple.
We talk about those unmarried with a child.
We talk the bigots we know.
We talk about the political candidates.
We talk about those that talks about us.
And then we go into a defense mode
Cause , we don't want others judging us.
Although , we are apart of the judgmental people.
Ministers, are no better than us.
They talk about the sinners in the scriptures.
In lessons they use to teaches us.
Will it ever end?
I guess not, as long as we, have the judgmental people in society.
Which I guess includes me.
Is it hard to bite our tongues?
Not really.
But to some it is.
When it's the only way to make friends.
And this is , where your humanity begins?
Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 9:56 AM UTC
A shape shifter.
A transformer.
Everything you fear.
Change.
The unknown is
a scary place,
a scary thing.
Do you know who I am?
Do I know who I am?
Would someone please show me
which home is my place,
which family my own,
which lines I should trace?
Every contour on my face,
every word that I utter.
It is all you.
And that’s scary.
Why does it scare you?
Because I am a stranger, and your homie.
Your son, and your enemy.
I am all that you were,
and all that you will be.
You want to embrace me
as your child, your kin.
But I’m different, a little
too complicated to fit in.
You wish for things to be simple,
the son whose identity is set in stone.
So I travel these unbeaten paths alone -
As you close your eyes to me,
a child who barely knows part of his family.
I look to you to help define me,
and still you refuse to see,
even as your memory is stirred by me.
Your mind pushes me
to the back of your head
but your heart won’t let
you forget who I am,
and so I’ve grown,
the invisible boy,
soon to become
the invisible man.
Some days you simply wonder,
and life seems more an illusion, and
all those heavy questions drive
your mind into diffusion.
Your reason screams “yes,”
while your sleepless conscience
tells you otherwise.
So which is telling truth,
and which is telling lies?
As you struggle to pick,
you start to realize,
you’ve made a wrong choice -
a part of you died.
This choice about me
could never be wise.
So which shall you follow,
your heart, or your head?
Don’t be too quick on the take -
You might make a worse
nightmare of your bed.
To see the unseen
is a complicated thing.
Many have said that
with knowledge comes pain,
And I assure you that
seeing me has consequences.
So you whisper, “ok”
Your curiosity parched
For the knowledge that quenches,
As it tugs at your core,
A million tight wrenches.
I will see you
Is your tardy demand!
And a transient being
Lifts his transient hand.
Where this unveiling takes you,
You intend to land.
You’re facing your demons,
You’re being a man.
So who is behind
the mask, you ask?
It’s me,
An interracial boy.
A melting *** of culture, and color,
A child who won’t accept the word other.
Not molded from one sole identity cast,
Destined for eternity to sculpt my mask.
Aug 31, 2011
Aug 31, 2011 at 1:31 AM UTC
It was Freddie Hubbard on the trumpet
blowing on about some blue moon,
as if the yellow one that has occupied
the night and sometimes morning sky
wasn’t enough, when I decided to write
a poem about thinking about tomorrow.
How I will rise before the rest, run a few
miles on a treadmill overlooking a busy
boulevard and read the private memoirs
of a justified sinner. And when the tomorrow
that I was thinking about comes with its new
minutes and hours, its new obstacles and
headaches, I will think back to today
and remember the morning kiss you gave,
the silence between your body and mine,
the amount of times you changed your outfit
before the lake, the museum: the live dances
from cultures around the world that kept us from
viewing new installments, the interracial ballet
dancers tip-toeing to a tune well-known to childhood
ears. But the one memory of yesterday that will be
with me until death do us part will not be of the
Shakespeare that I read nor of the raspberry
cheesecake we shared but of you: sitting alone,
waist-deep in a bubble bath. ******* pert and
motherly exposed. Resting comfortably above
your ribcage. Showing more beauty than age.
A glass of cabernet sitting where the razors and
shampoo usually sat. A young adult novel in the
white palms your small hands. But yes. The one
memory that will be with me until death do us
part and well, even after that, will be of me looking
at you: naked in a tub, your glasses over the bridge
but on the edge of your nose, and the rest of my life
before me.
Oct 3, 2016
Oct 3, 2016 at 8:12 AM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
Many people come with many different
packages,
Some are savages , and some claim to be,
But what you say is distant memory, to
encourage the capacity of idiocy in these
human beings , listening to what they hear,
Are you kidding me?
For example , the white and self-proclaimed
wholesome american could go and blame
the black man with anything they're handling,
Which is why I don't go interracial anymore,
***** that's how I'm feeling,
I'm a anxious 21 year old with no censorship
but I'm surviving,
To get out my words is what I struggle with
on arriving, I'm telling.
Sep 4, 2018
Sep 4, 2018 at 11:57 PM UTC
And when her eyes turned,
brown to blue,
I drowned in them
navigating too far into the oceans
She blamed herself
took matters into her very own
pale
impish
hands
And before they could arrest her,
She buried herself
into the the eyes of her lover,
smudged in soil,
Maybe that's why I loved her.
Mar 6, 2018
Mar 6, 2018 at 9:06 AM UTC
.*well back in my days (2 years ago)... you could groove to Patti Smith sing her rock 'n' roll ****** and listen to American Head Charge cover the same song... you could actually listen to Die Krupps Nazis auf Speed... back in my day - you weren't deemed a 70 year old nostalgia steam-train... while still in your early 30s; good luck finding that Patti Smith track... might as well resort to róże europy: kości czerwone, kośsci czarne (european roses: red bones, black bones)... and to think the *** pistols got away with their shenanigans... 40 years prior; Patti Smith! come on! it's a great tune! or tuning... whichever.*
racial slurs... so the suffix in
schwarze-negger is
a collective private property?!
Dr. Dre can say it,
as urban insult,
and i'm reduced to a colonial
past that isn't even mine?!
can i say the names
of countries like Nigh-ger-ia...
or Nigh-ger?
can it just be an urban
slur these days?
compared to spawn,
yes, black panther *****
***** on a lemon before
******* on ***
what's next:
yo... walking *****
the **** well... if we're
in the interracial Olympics,
i once ****** a bony black
girl with a Kama Sutra slim, tight,
that it wouldn't require a 12"
to penetrate a Ghanian lard
yo-yo...
pulverized
the soft pouch of flesh where my
***** originate from
using her coccyx...
****
even i didn't expect
finding out the riff...
on joan jett & the blackhearts'
song i hate myself for loving
you...
i'm with the Ire on the topic
of racial slurs...
instead of "offense"...
we resort to head-butts...
like the two Posen bucks...
running headlong into
a bare canvas...
comment section?
well... obviously i take off
my Francis Bacon mask.
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 12:33 PM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
Commercial of an interracial family came on the other day,
I thought it was okay and it was nothing to be complained,
But later to soon know racist people bashed it,
Trying to find an ignorant reason for satisfaction in small bits,
But its ********
My girlfriend is white and her parents are cool with it,
Don't know why the world gotta be so **** cold,
Playing hearts like pianos,
Already dust in the attic man this **** is getting old.
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 11:12 PM UTC
-Unbreakable Love
Not long too ago within the land of the free,
There was an adult named John and woman named lee.
Now, they were infact an interracial couple,
Illegal love that always got them in trouble.
Day after day they were beaten very badly,
All because people hated seeing them happy.
Their bruised battered faces were beyond recognition,
As a result of an evil institution.
Although they were surrounded by vile racist beast,
The two comely love birds had each other, at least.
But one day the country issued a new decree:
''Hunt the two and rid them of this world quickly.''
So John and Lee were kidnapped by a gang of three,
Who hung the innocent young couple from a tree.
Together forever in life as well as death,
They held each others hands until their dying breath.
Sep 27, 2020
Sep 27, 2020 at 6:36 PM UTC
by Arcassin Burnham
"Concept"
Yeah,
I heard the sirens last night,
Must be airing out,
Vivid thoughts of your emotional busted future,
I never do sir,
I go with the flow with everything I do,
Life in your hands,
Thought so,
I knew it wasn't you,
Put on my pants one leg at a time,
Then i sat,
Sneakers, hoodies and Adidas,
Trying on a bucket hat,
But yo it wasn't what I was feeling,
Somethings we can't help,
And ever black man does,
He gets killed,
Did the video go viral?
Did you see the officer that did it?
You should perish,
How the hell is this man still livin'.
If you don't get concept ,
By now you Should have it,
Its right in front of you,
All you need...........
••••
.........To do is "Grasp it"
Do you feel it yet?!!
I know a lot of y'all been sending out many threats,
Bashing the internet about interracial couples on commercials,
Do you see how mad and ****** off I got yet?
Why the world lost people without justice,
Why economy telling us to forget this,
Killed in cold blood in a mini mart,
How could we all ever forget this.
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 10:20 PM UTC
She surrounds my terrain, and I feel as if I am her centre.
She speaks to me like no-one else, and we have our own type of banter;
Her friends say, you two should confess for how you are made for each other,
Whilst my friends are on mainstream to agree with reference to being a chanter
She speaks in a manner so delicate, it would be fatally fragile to oppose.
I speak in a manner to appear without a thought to her, but it still flows;
We always walk home together to discuss our highs and lows,
We are two different types of people, she is full of hellos and I stand froze
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We spoke of interracial relationships with our races used for examples,
and she asks would you ever be with me (knowing how our race never have mixed- brown and black with specific religions)
Was this a joke or a serious question?
I had no answer, but what I did say to conclude was, "You must taste the core/centre of a person to realize, but never jump to conclusions with the flesh or the skin."
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 7:50 AM UTC
I was sitting on the ledge
that borders the outside of drumlin hall
and what if I just leaned back
what if I just leaned far enough
to
f a l l
would someone catch me
and I always think about this stuff
like today when I was driving to class
I thought why not just swerve the wheel left and gun it into the iced over lake
instead I kept 55
still alive in the right lane
still have a chest heavy full of pain
because I have a time frame
and stupid obligations like class and a degree
and the pursuit of making a life for me
head towards taconic hall
with grateful deads "ripple"
blasting through my headphones
droning out the noise and bustle
of all these people
in psych203
my ink pen runs out during the exam
so I shake it hoping it will write more
about the paradigm shift
and collaborative efforts.
I rack my brain for answers but
all I can think about is getting a different writing instrument
so my essay is half black and half white impression on the page
the product:
an interracial answer
head to Hudson hall for coffee
might save the life of me,
but instead I see that group of guys
who spew cat calls and looks of googly eyes sizing me up and down
veer left instead of right
to avoid shameful clowns
outside my breath makes
mist
outside my skin makes
for an unworthy protection against
the cold
so I hold ground
what would be up without coming down
say bottoms up
say stay ****** up
say upside down
say what comes around goes around
because as I tread on, some other girl
in knee high suede
is swamped by those kids.
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 10:44 AM UTC
Surrounding backgrounds, backdrops that empty glass eye
Ringing in your head; no means to pretend pretence
—always a means to an end. Like a long goodbye to an
old friend still one who owes you tens
A decade of friendship in these confused lines —you onced
slept with one of the guys. Not around, but a lot of times with
the same person, to say at least you've gone a few rounds
The only one to make you come out of a shell; fuelling up
the tank of a monthly desire. But you couldn't tell your friends; despite feeling sensations good as Heaven on earth— their preying
eye opinions would give you a lot of hell.
Still last night was one hell of a night, as he held you so
tight, a knight guarding you from those nightmares
As he tasted your lips, and tears while seeing all those
dark scars under your white night dress
Said, _"you're too dark to be found by love,"_ your usual
yellowbone cousins liked to make such comments.
You felt too ashamed to go play with the other kids on the
sunny beach. And it stained your heart; once trying yourself
to bleach
You just forgot your feet; a foot in your mouth kicking back
your words. Unlike the other girls, he liked you more
for trying to stick to your morals. Floral, a scented glow-
a light smell of _tragic beauty_ caught under his nose
Some nights hoping you'd be court, but in your family regards,
you're breaking tradition's law.
Lore beliefs, feeling seven days kind of weak, and it felt
so stranger that you fell in love with him in a week
It took a trip on this crazy life journey, for you to be riding
this long love trip. But he was only meant to be a friend
still it benefited you knowing he had seen you as more than
that from back then
But those still living behind, say you and him don't mix
into a good kind. As to mean the dark can't kiss a light,
such mean judgments, regardless of it being a modern relationship.
It's an old mindset, and I know he won't mind keeping it in secret
But it will all stay stuck in your mind, along with him
Oh my friend,
how'd I ever give the best advice to your situation
But only say and imagination that Adam and Eve
we're black and white. So wouldn't we have been
interracial from our creation?
Jan 20, 2023
Jan 20, 2023 at 4:19 PM UTC
Tell us how you really feel
Tell us how you believe black people
originated from god cursing Cain
Tell us how you think
"*It's the children that suffer
from interracial relationships, because
it confuses them and they don't know
which race to embrace*"
Tell us how you believe the poor
"Should just stop being lazy"
How teenage girls should just accept
responsibility for their decisions
while refusing to listen to their pleas for help
after the baby is born into your cruel world
Tell us again, how your god
doesn't pick and choose
the winners and losers
in this ****** up life
"*God gave us free-will,
the evil in the world is our own doing*"
Tell us how saying a prayer
is more acceptable than
actually giving a ****
about your fellow man
I am looking for a reason to believe
just tell us....
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 1:57 AM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
Times that i spent , lies that I've heard,
ain't nothing like this,
purpose in mind , got it from the dirt,
don't know if I'll have kids,
walking with you, all the way home,
I'm just trying to make it,
lines are being crossed , time is wasting,
got a feel for it,
I just don't need your assist , blocking out my happiness,
cause I'm just saying that your feelings are solid , precipice,
lies , lies , lies,
lies , lies , lies,
I can't help knowing that fact , but the time flies by.
don't need your assist,
really ! this is it?
are we really in the end times or is this it,
where'd your father go?
did your pride take off?
all the friends you know are fake,
gotta shake it off,
serve nothing interracial,
date your own race,
get on your own two feet and get back in the race.
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 9:32 AM UTC
They tell me to day within the race
I prefer interracial
Makes me want to do it more
Approval or not it's what I like
My happiness they cannot take
I'm hoping to make it work
The only one who gets hurt
I feel it deep within my heart
My world torn apart
don't know where to start
Love is a drug
Get that fix
Hope to one day find the right one
The girl who's in my life
My family will accept
Good or bad I won't regret
Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 11:31 PM UTC