I Am That Child

I am that child just out of the womb,

fresh and new, ready to consume, take in information.

Integration into a society that thrives on devastation.

Alienation runs rampant in our nation.

Segregation.

Native peoples kept to reservations while foreign peoples hail.

Peoples sailed forcibly from their lands, their hands bound.

It astounds, confounds me to see.



The definition of free is subject to what the government believes it should be.

Laws written up to make us believe we are free but it’s lip service.

It should disturb us.

It should hurt us to know that I am that child looking at this,

listening to this, eating and breathing this.



Spending my days watching people pissed about issues

that never get solved

Trying to resolve to go to school, not be a fool about life.

But all I learn is strife.

Because I am that child that is taunted and teased,

haunted, if you please,

by other children that are just like me.



Other children who grow up like me, seeing what I see.

Standing on street corners with their mothers.

They have no fathers.

The next man in bed just to be able to lay their heads down in a home.

But there is no home where they can stay.

They pray to a god that doesn’t hear or doesn’t care.

It isn’t fair. What is fair in a world that doesn’t know what free is?