Para mi jungle beats ,drums and bass.
Grime I like to hide all the things that I'd seen.
Depression is just microaggression.
House and funk like drinking for that feeling dancing on the ceiling.
Knowing being near to 19 ;people don't know my age so have to produce ID.
Oh what a pain my life is like a drain.
Suddenly my life is explained.
Wish people would treat me like my age .
Now looking at the world knowing I'm no longer alone .
Getting call backs,it's only for a caption; now my life is full of action.
Typecast where your viewed in a certain way.
Leaving my door open joining the streets.
Because no matter what I did was never good enough.
Standing in a crowd while a spokesperson is shouting out our demands.
If you don't meet we will become obsolete.
Fight down your ideology.
You are not like a hard Texan from the south whom are racist without a doubt.
Just in London.
Normalizing our behaviour.
Like you are our saviour.
Tear gas in and out my nose.
This is how it's going to go .
Shields up masks on.
Marching down.
Civil unrest is just disobedience;
Fed up of being obedient.
Bullets flying up against the fortress.
Which you uphold.
Holding up the higher ground.
Staying put till I'm found.
YOU ARE READING
Only a Number Not a Name
Short StoryIts about fictional rasicism in England. In how I would approach racism whilst trying to combat white saviorism. Showing that we all struggle, how the 2 characters communicate in how they treat each other with respect and will do whatever it takes t...
