I read a personal story about racism today
It made me mad
Sad
Such a hateful disease
Just
A
Hate
Full
Dis
Ease
But it made me think too
That when I was a kid
I was white
Freckled
And slight
I was shy
Retiring
Easily frightened
And I got picked on too
Badly
It wasn't a racist rant
With which they taunted
Haunted
Me
But rather
The cold
Frozen
Misery
Of pariah with which they bullied
And ostracised
And yeah
I got physically knocked about too
Because I stood out
Put my head up
Just long enough
To come into the haters view
And hell was I knocked down
And for a long long time
So you see I get it
Racism is misunderstood
It's not based in race
It's based in hate
Though the words that they hurl
Will use
Whatever your point of difference
If it's not the colour of your skin
Or your religion
Or your ethnicity
It's because you're plain
Or fat
Or just looking happy for a minute
Haters will use whatever in you
They can latch on to
Plug their cord within
And take that shot of energy straight from your writhing
Suffering
Soul
What makes them hate?
You
Me
No
It's just that hate is part of their breed
So
don't call it racism
As if it's some sort of excuse
Call it what it is
Hate is the word I use
Some people
Just
Need
To
Hate
And
Abuse
And the only antidote we can use
Is to break their breed
Cut it off at the knees
And steal their seed
Turn their children into
Something powerfully good

I met a poet who is doing just this all over the world and he inspired me

For Zohab 🕊