I’m black

Assumed to be high on crack

With my jeans at my knees

You act like I have a disease

You call me a thug

Saying I go around and mug

White people as they pass

Irrespective of my class

You call the police

To seize

Me when I walk by

Being sly

When you say you feel threatened

forgetting to mention

The reason for your unease

And you’re thinking I am sleaze

Because you’re listening to racists

And fascists

Who thinks being black is the offence

Always expecting me to mount a defence

Against your insecurities about the way I look

Constantly pointing at me as the crook

When I walk by not paying you no mind

You reply in an unkind

Manner to indicate that I am a thug

Then simply shrug

Your shoulders when police abuse me

By listening to you instead of letting me be

Myself in whatever I choose to wear

Not meant to scare


But you assume I’m on the run

When you call me gangster and thug

Seeing my black face on a mug

Shot of a wanted person

Never wanting to learn the lesson

That the hate you give

Makes it dangerous for me to live

To breath, to walk, to dance, to speak

Expecting me to remain weak

When I am confronted by your racism

And fascism

That you call fear

Whenever I am near

You or your kind

Even if I pay no mind

To the looks and stares, you give

Making it impossible for me to live

In peace and quiet

Instead, you incite a riot

A litany of police wishing to kill

Me and my people still.

A thug you say I am

Because you don’t give a damn

About my life based on my skin colour

But would rather

Scream and act

As if you’re being attacked

My way of dress

Was never designed to impress

You, but is instead

If you had read

A resistance to being targeted when you look at my face

Then assuming I am bad based on my race.

T.H.U.G. L.I.F.E