Delusion Of The Master Race Poem by Yehualashet Teshome

You tell me how it feels
The master race
To be the brightest
The most beautiful
The strongest of all
Civilized and cultured
Enlightened
To be the holiest
His imminence
The Holy grace
All from your race
Anointed, blessed by God
To rule this planet
Chosen to be the best
You tell me how it feels
I am invisible
An observer
Hiding in a rathole
Scared of your arrogance
Roaring to heaven
I am brown
Blessed with melanin
The curse and mark of Cain
You tell me what it is
To live in fantasy
Delusion of the master race