If I were there I’d probably be dead Or using the sidewalk As a king-sized bed A needle for my vein To disrupt the chain of thought Ignoring loved ones More often than naught If I were there The most heinous place I’d be another statistic Amongst my wounded race Fleeing everytime I see that holy man Like how a black man is With the Ku Klux Klan If I went there For that very first day They’d delouse my identity Creating another stray Cut my hair Like the ties to my heritage I lost my hope Pardon my arrogance If I went there I wouldn’t be here Creating a poem Like William Shakespeare I wouldn’t be laughing Or joyful all the time Instead I’d be longing For a life like mine -Jeremy Sylvester