My White Privilege of Thee

A poem

Here yee, here yee

White privilege of thee.

I do want to confess

But I’m under much duress.

I’m tired of the news

So I escape and wallow in blues.

My escape is indicative

Of my white privilege.

I can ignore what’s going on

And pretend to move on,

But this comes at the cost

To all the black lives we’ve lost.

I can walk without being shot

And not get handcuffed for smoking pot.

Yet if I were a black man

I’d be sent to the slam.

We say a black life matters

To fit in the trend of our hours.

But we need to make change

And act upon our rage.

That happens in the ballot box,

Not on your TikToks.