I’m an anomaly
A menace to society
A threat to the social order
But don’t expect an apology
Constantly contemplating
Struggle to comprehend the ethnology
Why do they eliminate us so methodically?

It’s more than statistics
Sometimes it feels sadistic
The cynic within me feels it’s fatalistic
I used to be optimistic, utopian futuristic
Now the snowball effect just makes me want to go ballistic

I can’t, because my indignation is seen as a problem
The blood on the leaves has fallen
I guess you can call it Autumn
The fishbowl makes it hard to come out like Obama
If not, you’re constantly running like Bill or Hillary Rodham

They fear me when I get even a little agitated
I’m aggravated when my brothers are assassinated
They say I need complacency just to get acclimated
That acquiescence and apathy are what I need to make it

The quiet storm is over
Don’t consider this a clover
My confidence and conviction will make you witness Jehovah
The narrative is written
But the power of the pen is with the brothers
We will no longer be treated as “The Other”

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