My Mom, the Racist
I once brought home a friend,
of the African American persuasion.
My Mom approached me and then,
asked me the following questions.
"Who is he?"
she asked me,
"Is he your drug dealer friend?"
"That's racist Mom,"
I went on,
"and a horrible thing to say.
He's a very close friend of mine,
whom I've known for a long time,
so put your money away."
Copyright © Billy Thekidster | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment