19 imma grant

i stare from my sleep to the wake of the dawn
there is no hope here, but its supposed to be a dream

why can’t I see the land underneath my feet?

slobbering and drooling, half a smile, full of mai tais

feed me wisdom in the form of discrimination
let me learn how to dodge the punches
because nobody’s going to speak to me in English

bleh lalala bleh

Step into peace? Squash all that is unfamiliar. Shame.

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