I’m Sorry, But I’m A Freaking Racist

I read this today and wrote a poem based on the article.

In a world where colours blend and dance,

A white woman speaks, takes a chance.

“I am a racist,” she bravely declares,

A truth she admits, burdens she bears.

Raised in the liberal light, she claims,

Equality in her heart, in her aims.

“All Lives Matter,” she won’t just shout,

Understanding nuances, without a doubt.

Books like “The Hate U Give,” she holds dear,

And “Small Great Things,” that made her fear,

The biases within, the shadows unseen,

Awakening her soul, breaking routine.

Black Lives Matter, she boldly states,

Not just for one, but all opens gates.

A club for Black girls, in her school’s domain,

Confusion among whites, privilege’s refrain.

A noisy clash, a privilege unknown,

In her quiet world, seeds of insight sown.

Generational scars, wounds deep and wide,

In the tapestry of time, where perspectives hide.

“It’s because I’m Black,” their voices rose,

In classrooms where privilege often shows.

As a teen, unaware, she walked the line,

Blind to struggles, complexities entwine.

Racism’s canvas, more than black and white,

Unfair thoughts lurk, hidden from sight.

It’s your voice, she urges, to uncover,

The biases within, a chance to discover.

For Black Lives Matter, a call to unite,

Beyond colours, beyond the fight.

To understand, empathise, break the chain,

In the chorus of voices, let equality reign.