Worthy of Respect
My Eyes
Desolation Poetry

Five hundred young White men 2 White women And me The freshman physics lecture hall smelled like a locker room I grew up with my kind So many not-mes in one place Porcelain faces watching me as I walk to the front I can’t see their eyes
Five hundred young White men Two White women And me No sound rushing past my ears A slight rustling as I passed Leaning away to avoid an accidental touch I didn’t want their skin on my skin, either They can’t see my eyes
Five hundred young White men Two White women And me A lynching ready to take place Them watching, waiting for the demise Choking on the surprise Blind to the truth of not-same We can’t see our eyes
Five hundred young White men Two White women And me Papers passed out in grade order I’m number one Surprise Now I’m worthy of a glance, a conversation No, I am not Glad they cannot see my eyes
More Poetry From Toni Crowe
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