“Stupid n-word!” His eyes were fire and his chest was a train. I had no idea these words of disdain... were meant, for me. Again with his words. First daggers, now a sword.
“You’re a stupid lazy spic!”
As if my race were something I picked?
Soccer was fun, I’d felt so carefree.
So, why then? Why? Why say this to me?
I’d stand there stunned, frozen, afraid.
The rest is a blur.
My memory goes dim.
Why would I want to remember?
What happened to him?
Was he stupid?
Was he gay?
Was being brown his sin?
Oh, why would I want to remember?
What happened to him?
Just shut up.
Say nothing, survive!
Yes, yes, hold all the anger inside.
One day you’ll get them.
One day you’ll have the resolve.
Treat this like math, just a problem to solve.
Because words aren’t sticks,
they’re not even stones.
Even though each word, cuts to your bones.
The solution is clear, pretend you’re not here.
Become a robot. We have no passions nor fears.
We have no dreams to drop, nor feelings to hurt.
Especially, when racism is so purely overt.
That's how I forgot what happened to m... him.
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