PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Dont point your finger at me,

due to the fact my skin resembles

the flesh of mother soil,

dont concluded I cant be free,

been born,

getting stamp on the neck with a bar code,

instead of my maternal name,

you try to force me to remember serial codes,

only few days of birth,

in your air ventilated room,

having theories

when I am going to be in the list of parole,

blaming me,

a factor of the towers collapse,

if I was in ground zero

I would be the one cleaning

then you would call me a hero,

accusing me to be a factor

in the downfall of the budget,

yet we provided the money

that you use to decorate your nice house,

is not our fault you invest your money

in the wrong things,

you take money from the people,

instead of feeding your poor,

you go and donate to build a pen

to write in outer space,

while I a street born man,

often give my lunch to a starving homeless man,

young urban kid,

stopping me form block to block,

making sure I am not strap,

spray can on my bag,

illegal substance on my pocket,

yet you ask stupid,

just check out the rampart scandals,

the many man they shoot for no cause,

yet they investigate me

if I was a member of the crime force,

saying I take away from the state,

I have to stop the hate,

I am a no good for nothing kid picking up change,

but I provide with the job I obtain,

I have no anger or hate,

just want the respect my people shall obtain,

before they accuse a culture or point fingers as is,

I think they have to investigate

the hard working race we are,

we dont have the good life,

nice house, fancy dinner,

we are the race that waits till Tuesday

to eat a good KFC dinner,

dont point your finger at me,

I have done nothing wrong,

my skin I am proud of,

my mind a great mentally,

I would not get caught in your lies,

the revolutionary speakers,

my mind shad set free,

dont point your fingers at me