Manual High Poems: Carlos Casillas

Untitled

by Carlos Casillas

Untitled
By: Carlos Casillas-Chavez

Segregated at birth, I was hated by the system
my skin color already determined my spot in prison
all I ask is for a second of your time, a second for you to listen.

Understand the problems that America is facing:
How can I afford an education when it’s more
than my entire family’s life savings?
This is why it is more likely for me to end up at the police station.

Why is it that minorities have to work so hard, but it
seems that you are at an endless vacation?
How can you threaten to call immigration when the land you are
stepping upon is rightfully the native’s.

I jot down this poem and these words to inform you:
the amendments do not
apply to those whose skin color is black brown or of
a darker hue,
Stop talking about the American dream like
it is true just to give the lower class something else to cling onto.

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