I am that child who watched in horror
as a policeman shot and killed my
I am that child gunned down
at school; my last words were,
“Help me! I don’t want to be here!”
I am that child tortured and beaten
and left in a field to die because
I am gay.
I am that child who listens
fearfully as a rich white lady
on TV says my life does
I am every child who has ever
gone to bed hungry
because of the greed of adults who
and If I survive I will shit on your
and feed your prisons
and live as evidence of your contempt for life
and the human spirit
and your bestial need for more.
I am the battered face of your hate.
Look at me.
Poem and Image (c) Rob Goldstein 2016