On Racism

I see humans with buckets where their brains should be
I see buckets full of skin
I see humans sanctioned by chaos
They name themselves judge and jury
They name themselves executioner and eternal choir of angels
All skins like these go in this bucket
This is the bucket of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness
All skins like those go in that bucket
That is the bucket of death, of torment, and the gnashing of teeth
I see the walking dead
shells of humanity
seeking to erase
for a bucket full of skin