Life In The Low Class Poem by Mark Wassenaar

Life is a war
All enriched with gore
When you're the lowest of the low
Now I am your foe
Everyone makes you bow
But now I will not allow
This much longer
With this blood I rise much stronger
I will lose no more blood
For my tears are about to flood
It's not about the size and colour of the skin
Look at me I'm native and I'm not thin
I may not be smarter but my life I will barter
I will not lack
With a broken back
Get out of my sight
I WILL put up a fight
Now leave me alone
You racist drone