Us

So I was going through my blog post drafts when I came across a poem that I wrote for Black History Month when I had just turned thirteen. It's not the best, by far, but I feel guilty that it has gone unpublished for so long. So, without further ado, here it is; 

Us

One day when we are old

we may finally share the same shade of colour.

We may finally both be grey.

Yet it is my hair that will be grey,

not my withered-up heart.

One day you may finally realise

the pain and anger you bought.

The people loved by the One Half,

are equally hated by the Other Half.

By You.

You are the person with evil and spite,

yet I am the one looked down upon.

How is that not wrong?

One day you may finally have children too,

as loved and happy as mine were.

Were.

Before you spat on their feet

and threw stones at their heads.

All of us, just animals in a zoo to you.

One day we will die out,

none of us left to protect the world.

Imagine that. A world full of Whites.

Would that make you happy?

Would it?

Would it?!

Then happy you will be,

just as long as I don't have to live

to see the world burn, burn, burn.

Until there is nothing left but black ash.

Black trees.

Black houses.

Until there is nothing left of You.

But plenty left of Us.

~Opinions?