I walk down the street and wonder,
Am I the albino beast they hunt,
It sure feels like it,
They watch and wait for any blunder,
Twelve in all, and it's the runt,
Who makes the first hit.
Instinct tells me to run,
Sense tells me to fight,
Pride tells me to walk,
My mind draws a gun,
And I see a light,
But ignore their talk.
12, too many for me to win,
Yet it's impossible for me to lose,
Still I walk from blow after blow,
As I fall they grin,
And it becomes harder to choose,
Still, I slowly go.
I'm no beast,
My back was turned,
Yet the hunters were hungry for hate,
I was a feast,
From hardships unearned,
And they fattened as they ate.
I want their blood,
I can see fear in lonely eyes,
Even a group is weak to real violence,
But they taste like mud,
My head explodes at their cries,
And I like better, to pounce in silence.
Author notes
Well, just because your life is boring doesn't mean you have to damn men everywhere. I was spotted walking by about twelve black kids, who thought that it would be nice to say hello to me, cause I'm white.
So they crossed the street, waited for me to pass(Brave bunch), and then the runt ran up to me and used his inertia to hit me in the back of the head. I turned around and looked him in the eye before I started walking again, and it happened again, three more times in fact. The final time, two hit me at once, and I fell. I picked myself back up,and turned around again, (I didn't the prior two times) and there was a genious looking at me and trying to provoke me.
Now, I was a block away from my house, and I have two big dogs. I commended this guy's intelligence earlier, because he was coming at me leaning forward, his face perfectly exposed, arms down at his side, greatest fighting stance ever. I wanted to punch this stupid, ignorant (explitive deleted) in the nose. I know I would have broken it, I didn't even feel the punches until a few hours later I was so drunk on adrenaline. It almost looked like a bullseye. I'd break his nose, and the blood would scare the others away. If it didn't, I'd run to my house, let out the dogs and call the cops.
I thought about that for a few seconds, and I didn't like it. I don't like to hurt people, I didn't want to hurt him, and it wouldn't fix anything. So I lit a smoke and stood there, thinking for about a minute, which was enough to scare them off.(Smoking makes you bulletproof kids!) And then I walked home.
I think I said more with silence and self-control anyway. Not to them, they are lost causes right now... maybe when they get older... But I can tell people what I endured, and have a reason to be proud, and the story seems to inspire people.
Every so often, I think about going to the apartment complex where they live, catching one alone, and beating the hell out of him; I'm human, and weak, and I know I shouldn't think like this but it's hard not to. I'd enjoy it physically, it would ease away a lot of stress, but I wouldn't accomplish anything other than self-satisfaction, and sore knuckles. I'd rather do something to end the baseless hate, so this doesn't happen again, but I don't think anything I do could do that, which makes me angry, which makes me want to beat the hell out of someone. I know I shouldn't think like th...
That's my story. Heh heh heh... I'll laugh my ass off if somebody tells me to get off my cross, I've been waiting for that. I had more fun writing this than the crappy poem.
A contest entry
- Cave Men by Tamera.
600 points, ended September 11, 2008, 5 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Thoughts on racisim?
Comments
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Thank you. I hope you looked at the quality of the work, and not the sob story, sympathy wasn't what I wanted (I feel kind of bad, I don't think the actual poem was that great) But I'm honored that you liked it so much!
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I love the title and it fits well. Your reaction stole the strength of thier action and made it yours. I think colors are totally enterchangeable here. I like that you mention it , but move on, and your focus is on your responsibility and right to choose your reaction. You don't make yourself out to be a hero, and nor a martyr. Just a person angry at an injustice.
That makes your write one many can relate to.
The lines I like best:
"And I see a light"
"I am no beast"
"I can see fear in lonely eyes"
"But they taste like mud"
Congratulations on the win.
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