The American Presidential elections through the eyes of an English, mixed-race 15 year old girl.


It's Not Called The Diversity House, It's Called The White House.

Half and half
One's to your advantage
One's not.
Though over there they'd call you black
If you kept your hands in the shadows
Sad but true.

I'm sorry, because I would vote for you.

Are they ready
No, sadly not.
It looks like they're all on your side.
On our news.
Though over there they'd call you back
And drag you down and beat you up.
Sad but true.

I'm sorry, because I would vote for you.

I'd be careful
When you enter that building
It might blind you
Or reject you.
It's never seen a hint of colour apart from the flags.

So one day
You'll be nodding off to sleep
But be unfortunate to meet
Someone who wants you dead
There'll be words you never said

As they aim at the spot on your head.



Poetry by demolitionlover
Read 695 times
Written on 2008-08-06 at 01:04

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Kathy Lockhart
a moving poem from one so young. However, as an American, I can tell you that he is called "black" because he calls himself that. And, as for me, race has nothing to do with his qualifications to be president. I don't vote for party or color; I vote for the one who best represents my views.
2008-08-06