Listen biscuit,
don't stab me and cry,
and tell me how non-violent you are.
Let those tears dry.
Wearing them like innocence.
Don't turn around now,
screaming at me,
as if I've done you wrong,
or limited your rights,
with your eyes drooped long,
like a veil to your own funeral,
as if I'm limiting your rights.
Don't pretend that I don't see you,
clearly,
for what you are,
with your knife covered in my blood.
And don't accuse me of robbery,
when I try to take your knife away,
You're not the victim here.
In the same way,
you don't get to say,
when you hop on your privilege,
and tell me it's okay,
when you use bigotry and hatred,
and turn around and say,
"But I'm not a bigot!"
It doesn't work that way.
-o0o-
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