Life on foreign soil.

LIFE ON FOREIGN SOIL.

Faster than the blink of an eye,I ran.
The marathon to see a new day.
The angry mob chase after me.
Clubs and daggers raised high.
All in the purpose to mutilate me.
They wear black but hate blacks.
I am a black rose in the amidst white ones.
My indifference which I taught a beauty costing me my safety.

Can I be blamed for this?
The maker makes,
I am just a product of creation like they are.
I see them as friends but they see me as threat.
They chant always,
"Black lives matter" but they make blacks the matter.

My forefathers worked as bees to see them look good.
They tilled their lands which were hard as their hearts till they became soft as foam.
But they were repaid with nothing.
My colour is an eye sore to them.
I am being avoided as a leper.
©victor_writes.