How does one describe hatred ingrained in the soul
Against others too different? It puzzles me
After decades of civil rights. Am I naïve
In my third second childhood? I want to believe
That this nation adores me and that I will be
Treated just as all others. I should play that role.

But the hatred is overt… so up in my face
About pride in their country and how they’ve been wronged.
The dank cauldron of congress contains a sick brew
For weak minds to soak up. What it all boils down to
Is their right to hunt niggers. The fight is prolonged.
The incitement to violence is due to race.

White-hooded Christianity curses this land
Where I was born and raised and would claim as my own
Just as others here like me in every which way.
But to think that I’m loved here is just self-dismay.
Why I’m hated so damned much may never be known.
In the next realm perhaps I can then understand.

But you have no right to send me there at your will.
Your instinct to exterminate isn’t the kind
That humanity thrives on. The reverse is true.
Christ lived not among white folk. Take that as a clue.
Mixing crap with reality fucks with the mind.
You throw tantrums because you’re not able to kill.