Oh goddess
Help me…
He's only fifteen, maybe
Fourteen
And it's taking every fiber
Of my will
Not to curse his teenage butt.
I can feel my beast rise
I can feel his hot breath
On the nape of my neck.
This tall white male boy
Will have more power
In this world by default
And he's already cruel
And demeaning…
I can feel my beast
Wishing him dead
In some tragic teen car accident
So that he will be remembered better
Than he ever really was.
He keeps stomping
On my buttons,
Just by being who
He is…
No wonder Columbine
Children kill these @ssh0l3s…
And we think the killers
Are at fault…
I can feel the rage
Of my beast
As he puts down
Two teens
Who pass me by
Twit has no idea
that I know them.
He is mean spirited
Because he thinks
This is what it means
To be cool.
“Don't curse them,”
The girl pleads with me…
And her wisdom
Stays my beast…
Barely.
I can feel the future
And all the people
He will hurt
And the girls he will use
And cast aside
And the promotions he will
Get just because
He's a tall white male
In America
And her wisdom
Isn't enough
For me,
To put my beast
Back in the closet…
The curse stays
In my hand…
Could it teach him a lesson
And open his eyes and heart…?
I will never know…
Because I walked away
Knowing that it wasn't just the one boy
But the crowd he hung out with
And Dr. Kings words
Haunted me all the way
To the car…
“True evil is when good people stand idly by and do nothing.”
