F.O.T.W.

 

There he is again/searching...
for me - the object of his disdain/
his bete noire

Looking at him through the facets of my vision...
- He is a hulking one of them

The ones who seek to cut off my already
truncated life

Swish! a swift and practiced mano
takes aim

Lo Mein from last night's revelry
my launch to escape

....too evasive...

Yet, my aggravation is apparent -
if only to myself

Agitated setae sit stilly upon a
bottled back

Nonetheless, I take this latest attack
in stride....An insignificant setback in this
current battle between he and I/between I
and them

Since this is a constant struggle/one that has
probably been going on since the inception of time...

I profoundly ponder past assualts from
whilom ages

Is this the Genocide that my brothers from
another phylum speak of through the whisper mill?

For, I am also Black, but very
uncomely/I am Black, but the sun
has not made me so...

No!...

I have attained my shape, size, and melanin
through the evolutionary hand of creation

Still, do I deserve to procreate,
to be fruitful and multiply?

Each day my numbers diminish
and nobody questions why?

Yet, every attempt to exterminate my existence
is met with a well executed jete

Since hardly anyone is successful the first time

I then let the momentum carry me high
and away/until I once again become a
negroid speck on a drab canvas

....A canvas that only I can bring color to...

...F.O.T.W?...


Fly On The Wall