Racism
It is bad
It is bad
In the deep south.
In the deep south.
I was a little girl
Growing up
Trying to find my way
Suffering always at the hands of
Damn morphodites
But I could see that my dear old indigenous maid
Had it worse off than me
Because of racism
Oh woe is racism
I just want to be me
This is simple yet powerfully affecting. The voice and rhythm are reminiscent of childhood and the carefree naivety of youth, and yet it sparks with profound wisdom, reminding us of the importance of seeing the world from another's point of view. Oh woe is racism, indeed!
The poet captures the rawness of racism in the Deep South brilliantly in just a few sparing words. What is remarkable about this work is not merely its unwavering confrontation of race relations, but its elegaic portrait of early girlhood and the voyage of self-actualisation that is coming-of-age.
Genius. So emotive, just.... a view into the mind of God itself. Thank creation for Elsinore RathbridgeStewart!
woe is racism, thanks, I invite you to read my poems and comment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem says it all... and then some! Thank you for your courage.