I知 retching on the dirt,
It痴 earthiness coating my throat.
I知 wincing on the bitterest pill.
I refuse to swallow.
I知 offered the warmth of a velvet gloves,
An iron fist to some.
I知 treated like a scab.
A traitor in my kind.
I知 hounded by white-right might
That wants the country pure.
I知 incensed by those in awe
Of living amongst their own.
Selective perfection will cut their own throats!
I知 constantly forcing the point,
But we池e all retching on dist,
And we値l choke if we don稚 spit it out!
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