“Can we please stop talking about race?”
You demand as you casually spit out “those people”
As an insult to group all your prejudice into one demongraphic
Unaware that you are talking about my friends.
And the beautiful children of my friends.
And their friends.
And their friends.
And.
Their.
Friends.
It’s as if your fear of the unknown
Has manifested into your own inner demons
Which are circling the deep chasm between
Your head and your heart
Whispering lies of mistrust and distrust
Missed trust?
Dissed trust?
What happened to you
That brought you to this evil place
Of hating someone you have never even met?
Are you able to lean into a deep breath
And consider how ludicrous that notion is
For even just a minute?
Like some kind of drug-enduced hallucination?
Out of sync machination
Or off-beat verberation
A part-hate vilification
Perhaps simply a personification
Of a childhood narration
About the shadowy boogeyman
Who had set up shack under your bed?
It seems that hate wasn’t so pronounced
When you needed someone to come and clean your house
Tend your garden
Raise your children…
You even showed a glimpse of your humenmity
When you kept aside special dishes and cups
That only they were allowed to use
Those people
With their communist ideas and their dreams and their creativity
Those people
With their antagonistic love of family and fears of what the future might hold
Those people
With their arrogant desire for three meals a day
Their entitled protesting for basic sanitation in their places of homeprisonment
The constant reminder of that system we used to have that saw them as less than human
[If you look hard enough you can see it peering through the layer of paint we tossed at it]
ENOUGH!!!
Stop with your accusations and your wordplay
Your thinly veiled judgements
Quit suggesting I am out of touch
With the lived life experiences of those who don’t look like me
Some of my best maids were black!
Can’t we just paddle out
And discuss this reasonably over the break?
All these friends and their children and their friend and their children and their 7 children should all pay they own way. We all oit of jobs now. Most companies will fire the rets of their black staff and white staff and will be going under. Nobody will be paying tax. Where will all the money come from for 20 million freeloaders on grants? The answer is it won’t. What then? Governmnet will start printing money. Banks won’t be able to take everyone’s houses as we outnumber the banks and the army and the police. So as governmnet prints more money, we become like Zimbabwe. Farmers are mostly white so they will no longer farm. Whatever they have, will go to help whites too. Right now governmnet is letting white people starve to death as no whites get help without the parasitic bee or we not black enough to get help. So we won’t hire any more going forward. No more jobs. Too risky to keep employees. There is even a meme with you on going round somewhere now. Says you have Stockholm syndrome. Sjem
So much assumption in your comment Zane which just goes to further sound out your racism. The poem was a call for people to see people. the moment you start calling a certain group in the population “those people” it shows you have dehumanised them and somehow see yourself as better than. Also it makes absolutely no logical sense – there are good and bad black people, just as there are good and bad white people and most people are probably a mix of the two. But you somehow feel justified to come here and spew your vomit all over my page further entrenching the divides that exist in this country.
Why not try and connect with some people who don’t look like you? Get to know them. Hear their stories. You may find there is so much more similar than different. Then suddenly you realise that together we can find the solutions for the country as opposed to you seeing it as an us vs them all the time!