SMILE

Smile
11/3/2004

You get used to it, I told her. You get used to it and expect it when your skin is far from fair.

Each new place studied with suspicion. Each introduction clothed in wonder.

I told her it’s an everyday occurrence living in this shell…

Hahaha, you hear.

Yes, Massa, you hear

"You playing Negro again?"

Hahaha, you hear as you walk around the corner to the look of guilt on the trespasser’s face.

Each new choice neurotically calculated.
Each hello measured and analyzed.
Each step watched.

You get used to it.
You get used to hearing every sound.

You get used to hearing…

You get used to it and smile…

And smile…

And


smile…

zss

©2004 wrosesongs
All Rights Reserved
november 3, 2004