The Rising Sun

by mudrhetoric

I’m sick of being the nice nigger.
A cockroach in the room.
Bled dry in the street.
So long implicated in oppression.

Raised to believe in the white picket fence.
And inalienable rights.
Still subhuman.
And tokenized always.

How long was I blind?
Taught patriotic lies.

I need to keep up appearances.