She rested on her throne, 

looking down at her subjects, 

Her majesty with her legs crossed and her head high, 

"You're lucky you have that skin tone" she affirmed, 

"You can drink coffee freely" 

 

The words she spat were not heard, 

Her disciples didn't flinch, 

"You're lucky you have that skin tone" they rattled, 

"You'll get nice boys" 

 

Their laughter in agreement erupted, 

But her majesty kept her smirk, 

That sinister smile she had when she hawked out those words 

 

Her smirk remained but her throne was gone, 

That majestic aura disappeared, 

All she had were the ugly words she blurted out 

 

I turned red in rage, 

The air was sucked out of the room, 

Nothing remained but the echo of those ugly words, 

The words that screamed hatred 

 

“I'm not lucky”, 

The earth shook as they turned their revolted faces, 

Their stares shot bullets at me, 

Gasps in the atmosphere filled the tainted room, 

“I'm not lucky” I yelled. 

 

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