Racist Poem by Wingless Fowl

Illegal I was in the world where
She lived. For her, I wasn't an heir
Of the throne but a middle class.
She was an exam I couldn't pass.

For I had no amount of fee
To pass and sit by my bee.
Poor, I was; I felt like an orphan
In the land where I was foreign.

I remember you came to me
First when I barely knew you
Offering a chocolate on the
First floor and I thanked you.

I was surprised for the second
Time when I received your call.
Remember? we grew to beckon
Our love every time with a fall.

We quarrelled every single day
And ultimately found our way.
Remember? you said you couldn't
Live without me, an amnet.

One night I decided to tell her
Who I was and I did without
Thinking much; my slur.
Middle class, it was about.

Confused she said she was
For the moment: "It's okay",
I replied. I had to pay
For honesty, a big round of applause.

Next morning, I sensed a change.
She wasn't herself anymore but
An arrogant rich girl in exchange.
I truly became poor and that hurt.

The last person I was on her list
Followed by her uncle, brother,
BFF: and there I was an optimist.
Yes, I was a fool; just another.

It broke my heart when one day
She said she'd leave me if her
Maternal uncle would say.
I mean wow! fool, I was.

Even though I was stuck
With her with the hope
That one day she'd pluck
The feelings and try to cope.

She started to ignore me
With excuses, I remember
One evening when she
Hung up on me with a tremor.

When asked if I didn't deserve
A minute of her life, she said,
"My mother is everything I serve."
"You can move on", she bade;
"If you don't like". I sighed.

I was clearly pushed away
For asking a question or
For my being a middle-classer?
I didn't understand anyway.

When all was said and done,
I begged her to keep me in
Her life cos hope wasn't gone
For us to see through the pain.

She refused at once saying
She couldn't hold on anymore.
I should probably go looking
For someone in another folklore.

Lost like a calf in the middle
Of nowhere, my heart bled tears.
I broke down entirely with my fears.
Only if she knew how to tiddle!

My phone rang after a year.
"I want to tell you something",
"Please don't hang up my dear! ",
"I'm sorry! ", she hesitated.
"It's okay. It is nothing.",
"I forgive you, love", I replied.

I was a loser with a rule;
I never gave a second chance.
I didn't expect her to enhance
Cos she taught me that principle.

It's been three years now.
I think I'm fine, aren't I?
If not, I'll be anyhow.
After all, I'm a tough guy.