The Race Game

The Race Game, a free verse poem - Walk In Verse

With division, they control.
With control, they displace liberty.
With liberty displaced, they impose tyranny.
With tyranny, they incite hostility.
With hostility, they create separation.
With separation, they control our destiny.

A vicious circle played at your expense,
At your expense, they continue to win.
With their winning, you play the race game.
With the race game, you lose — they win;

Ever enslaving your mind
As they strip away your pride,
Shaping you into the mold
Of self-servitude;
For you believe their lie
That this is you versus I;
When in reality,
It is us versus them.

Us — the collective us — society,
The entire public variety
Of us, standing as one;
Removing the smoke from our minds,
Seeing their games of demise:
Games that penetrate our lives
Creating animosity between you and I.

As long as we remain in chains
By their propaganda feigns,
Peace will always be strained —
With only racial hate
Under their full-blown dictator state.

For this was never about race,
But rather control of the serf state
To bring the demise
With you versus I
As we kill one another
In the name of race.

Let’s stop this fate
of violence and hate.
And now at this date
( Regardless of color,
Regardless of race),
Let’s encompasses one another
With love and grace,
And stop the hate.

We can stand on our feet
Living without defeat,
Or die on our knees
Under the racial decrees
Of a dictator surf state.

For as long as they continue to win
We will lose until death calls us in;
Lined up, ready for the grave,
Choosing to be slaves
With their racial divide
Set in motion for our demise.

So choose which side;
You versus I
Where we shall both die?
Or us versus them
Where we will both win,
Regardless of skin;
Working together
Like the love of a mother
Embracing one another
Until the end,
Where they lose
And we win!


From the Book

FIRESTORM, When History is Erased

The Race Game by K. Saitta
© 2007-2021 Walk In Verse All rights reserved

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Standing upon the ferocious sea As waves encompass about my knees, I sit and stare at the tragedy Of societies

You think it’s funny?

You think it’s funny?

The prostitute screams Bleeding in the streets — Wrists slit, She screams; You look — paying no heed — And

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