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 that my life does
I am every child who has ever gone to
Because of the evil of adults who know what
And If I grow up I will shit on your streets
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