Hate

I sit in my room and cry today
for the first time i see.

I thought it was over
I knew I was wrong
But I would never thought
I would look into the eye
Of someone your age and see hate

Not hate because of something I said
Not hate because of something I did.
But because my skin was darker then theirs.

They said I am mud.
Because I am not what they are.
If that is the case I'm happy to be mud.
If Mud means I am a mixture of everything to grace america than I am happy.
I am happy to be a piece of the melting pot.

I thought it was over and done with.
I thought America was clean of it
I knew I was wrong.
But I couldn't. I wouldn't believe it.

How could someone so young look at me with disgust.
How could someone so young think I was so dirty.
All because of one thing.
Out of the mouth of a baby came the words "N*gger go back to africa"
Even though I thought it was over the hate came out of me.
I guess it'll never die.