Waking nightmares.

I’m afraid.
Afraid that globalism is a new white man word for colonialism,
Instead of guns and Bibles, they come bearing smart phones and chicken wings.
I’m afraid that we will all die,
Even more scared that we will not.
I’m scared that we’ve got the earth by the neck and won’t stop squeezing in time.
I’m afraid that the pedophiles are getting away with it,
And the internet is helping them.
I’m scared of walking down the street,
Since Eve crammed that apple down Adam’s throat we haven’t caught a break.
I’m afraid that my president will see this and have me arrested.
It might be too late for Africa,
A continent wading in the blood of its own people cannot shed its colonial skin.
I’m afraid that if I try, I’ll fail.
And if I succeed, I’ll be a sellout.
I’m afraid that the freedom fighters died for nothing,
And so will I.

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