Neither Hood Nor Hoodie

Neither Hood Nor Hoodie

When

a young son in a hood, loved and raised in a Klan

and a young son in a hoodie, another cherished young man,

both place their hands up against the smooth glass sheen

to know it as not a window, nor a mirror

But as a screen.

When

the young mother who can’t find her lover’s strong arms

and the young father who can’t find his lover’s tender charms,

both place their hands up against the smooth glass sheen

to know it as not a window, nor a mirror

But as a screen.

When they press.

Hard enough to crack it. Break it.

And refuse to take it

for what it’s pretended to be.

Making a fool out of You and poking fun at Me.

From behind the glass, from where they hide

but you can’t peek in.

From behind the screen of every production

where they sneak in

every hate, every fear, every lie, exaggerations…

The ways we walk, the ways we talk and think for generations.

From behind stained teeth for sneering and telling lies through.

Another episode of mocking Me. Another season of poking fun at You.

Non-stop spinning dramatizations

over and over

around and around…

Sparing not a single generation.

When we press.

Hard enough to crack it. Break it

And refuse to take it

for what it’s pretended to be.

No longer making fools of You. Nor poking fun at Me.

When young mothers need no longer apologize

for adoring the wink of the young fathers’ eyes.

No longer forced to look out of windows onto barren terrain

nor into mirrors reflecting the same.

When there’s no more hood nor hoodie,

two old friends were forced to wear…

Not blown in through windows, nor seen in mirrors,

but from behind the shattered screens of

those who created and then placed them there.

photo By kichigin19

story By Ramsy

Dedicated to all of the actors and officers in Media who dedicated all of their energies and focuses into keeping us in the dark, “mind raping” us and helping keep our mouths clamped now , after fifty years of devoted services to the UN.

How proud Daddy must be over your decades of unwavering service.

How swell it would have been if we had a friend like that, for us.

Thanks for pretending as much, anyway.

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