One day my ancestors were reading something
It is of our heritage they say as they always say
In their special conceited way
“We are blue blood”.
Oh I loathe my blood, the smell of that blood makes me mad at myself.
With disgust I feel that blue blood running through my vain.
Had I the blood of a farmer, a prostitute I would have boast!
Had I the blood of the oppressed, the humble blood I would have been proud.
Had I the blood of a tenant rather than land lord Oh I would call you my God “my
But I am ashamed to call your holy name as the blood of the bloodiest running in
Had I the bloods of minorities of any country rather than the proud majority
I would love to be someone whose parents come from different religion and from
different cast. So I would become the most oppressed and my blood would
become more red and pure than the dirty blood of blue color.
And if I could not change my blood with that of hermaphrodite, prostitute, raped
woman, homeless, minorities in the country, all the people who are oppressed
I would rather like u to shed my blood which stink with its cruel history
That no one ever shed tear because of the arrogance of nature.
For ancestor’s crime, successor should make penance