Animosity Drowning

Rookie (6/13/85 / Oklahoma City)

Walking On The Soldier Creek Trail

Poem by Animosity Drowning

Walking to my father's house today
With my son in his stroller
This trail is littered
It is abandoned
This used to be the nice part
Of the suburb I live in
But now I carry
Pepper spray in Ian's diaper bag
The leaves have started to grow on the trees
The trash along the creek bed has been
Covered by vines
I feel like this trail sometimes
Hidden Flaws
All these thoughts flutter through my mind
On this mile walk to my father's house
I realize how racist my city is still
Even though we are in a new century
I realize that I wouldn't be carrying protection
If it wasn't a pre-dominately 'black' area
I don't want to be racist
I don't want to carry pepper spray
The police are racist here
There is more crime in my neighborhood than anywhere else
in the suburb I live in
My neighbors look like crackheads
They are white
I am not racist.
I don't have any money to be racist.
Walking back from my father's house
I have one thought on my mind
My legs hurt

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Roald Dahl


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Read poems about / on: father, house, money, city, sometimes, son, today, soldier, tree

Poem Submitted: Saturday, April 2, 2005

Poem Edited: Saturday, May 28, 2005