by James Landrith
Just a hypocrite with a poison pen.
Slashing religion and slashing men.
My prejudice I will deny.
My motive is chaos, my love is ruin.
I feel no compassion for another’s pain.
I care for none other than myself.
And I can’t even believe in that.
I lack understanding and patience for your mistakes,
but I’ll pay you more attention than you’re worth.
You get me by. You’re my life sustenance.
Just another way to pass the day.
You curse me, slander me,
yet you support me with your subscription,
and read my lies daily.
You secretly love me,
and some of you wish you could be me.
But none of you could ever equal me.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: This poem, written in 1986 (I was all of 16 years old), is not about me or in any way related to The Multiracial Activist, which didn’t exist until 1997. It was written as an ode of sorts to a popular journalist from the Peoria, Illinois area.
Copyright © 1986 James A. Landrith, Jr. All rights reserved.
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Updated April 11, 2013