was but a child of eightwalking on a street so foreign
in a country so strange
felt all alone
a stranger strikes me in my stomachexpels all breath inside me
he runs away and yells…
‘go back home where you belong’
incessant tears cascade my face,running running not stopping until at my front door
mamasita comes up to me…’que paso mijo’?
i asked..’what’s wrong with me, mama’?
she sits me down with her handtears are wiped from my face
gives me a tortilla with butter, sugar
sprinkles, looks at me and says
‘nene, te falta nada, eres un angel’
(nothing is wrong with you, my angel)
hate, I’ve learned, arises for different reasons;because of differences, because of fears,
insecurities gathered through the years
are groomed by ignorance, stupidity is the
attire of choice.
to this day my stomach aches not froma strangers hand but from the strain
of hatred running through people’s veins
that cause human rights violations on the
disenfranchised via prejudice, bigotry , racism
with insidiousness for oligarchic gains
[ for Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Human Rights