Poem: Newspapers

        Newspapers

The newspaper is read by Whites and by My kind alike.

They read it for entertainment, jobs, and for other nation insights.

Each has other uses for it besides the morning read.

My kind uses it as am informer about those who know how to lead.

Such as Martin Luther King, our equal rights torchbearer,

Who believes all men are equal, that the Black man should be treated fairer.

The White man, though, uses the paper and ink in a contradicting way. 

They put it to work, acting as if they had had that paper for weeks, not only a mere day. 

They use it for fetch, or a job needed to be done with paint,

Or for their animals, where they can eat, sleep, and urinate.

In the end, the newspaper becomes nothing but trash,

Or it is burned to start a fire, and quickly turned to ash.

The newspaper is not the only thing treated this way by the White man.

My kind receives the same treatment, as if we are of same brand.

They treat us like trash and look down upon us.

At our sight, they command us to work, calling us “ Stupid Nigger” or “Dirty Cuss.”

The make us work, all day and all night.

As if we are machines, with no emotion or life. 

But let me tell you, we are full of life!

We may be of a lower class, or of a different race,

But we still shine! We shine full of light.

So although the newspaper is read by Whites and by My kind alike,

Each race has its methods to it, completely different but very concise.