The Message, by Charles DeGregorio

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem written after watching some spoken word.

Submitted: June 21, 2010

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Submitted: June 21, 2010



To my fellow Caucasian, I will bring this to you with escalation. Can you answer this without evasion?

Can you celebrate our differences, without claiming to be above? Can you celebrate individuality, and treat others with respect and love?

We aren’t colors, we are skin tones. I am olive and Italian, am I a nigger to an Irishman?

We are bones, muscles, ligaments, and pigments. Any indignant infringement of equivalence is a convenient appeasement to belligerent ignorance.

To the misguided and hateful men, who wear white sheets out of a willing terror of difference: I hope you choke on your white fucking sheets, because we don't want your conceited and destructive presence. 

To the brothers who talk about "the man" and see a dagger in every white hand; I gotta tell you, I ain't a fan. You could bring peace and love to this land, but instead, you sow discord wherever you can. 

Is keeping racism alive your plan? 

When I ask you to hold my hand, take off your Black Panther glove; I can't do this alone, it takes two to love.

© Copyright 2017 Charles DeGregorio. All rights reserved.

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