red are little feet on hot concrete
red is the letter sewn into the chest
like the blood sewn into the cross
like the rosey cheeks of the ones who are all to undesirable
the lamented, self loathing, and pure
the prince, the penny thief
paralyzed and pungent is he.
born out of that & born into this
“I am” I learned to utter silent
red is the child
confused and scared screaming
reaching for a mother only to fall
only to get up and begin marching
in the oh so taunting and beautiful
red parade
We are.
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