Battling Racism
I have wanted to tell my story of Sgt. Vigay.
When we first met, him claiming cool,
and get's Hell out's -is way.
I never felt such hatred, prejudice, like that first day.
That was my first moments, But I swore, I'd make him pay.
It started, claiming he'd whip's my body,
Like's moppen's the hall.
He'd whip's this I'd'ho white boy, in Bassit Ball
There he stood, six three or four, big and frighting.
But I mouthed, moe foe, have you ever seen?
I'd'ho white greased lighting?
The hurts and the banging, I knew what I'd get.
All the money I had, but what the Heck?
I placed life, death, on that six dollor bet.
Battling racisim, I bet they're still wondering even yet?
The brothers all cheered, for their man six feet four.
The fight was finally over 21,24,
It ended there? I had thought on that dirt room floor.
But it turned out mine was the higher score!
The fighting then started, those brother's, never let it end.
They encouraged their Chicago Projects, Brother, Friend.
No matter what ever I would do, No matter how hard, or Hurt
I tried?
They claimed, Vigay, with -is one hand tie-.
I ask him, thirty forty times, couldn't he let
this game end.
But did you ever notice? Brothers and Racisim seldom,
never, bend?
That was the way it was, trash talking, racisim
without end.
So I had to fight in the name of sports.
Baseball, swimming, fighting on the run.
Vigay and his brothers, To pick on their boy was fun.
Never had so many places that hurt!
But at every turn I won.
Then the day, that showed how much? They, I had started to hate.
That day, I sealed my one fate.
I made a knowing fatal mistake.
I knew in their hearts hate, and one more contest?
My mouth and heart said retard wha- the -ell was chest?
I had taken their racsim,
I'd whip their ass in chest.
Well I'd mouthed moe foe, retard, ugly, dumb,
My tounge never rest.
I poked fun, yo mother be fat, and you and yo dadda both had
sps.
Yo home mamma fat and ugly married to your chickenn ss..
Well one of the brothers said, No, Man! It's called chess!
Not chest!
In this contest Vigay. No man can beat!
He b- Da- best.
I showed now how I had learned to hate!
Boasting In Idaho, moe foe, that in this game I took state.
So put yo money, wher'd yo mouth was, and fool
For this game you be on time.
I watched as the brothers emptied wallets, pockets,
To the last dime.
But, then and there I stopped, offered peace.
Said I was tired of fighting, give me a break, and time?
But I had pushed to far, they wanted my hide
Said nope, and together your mine.
I had acted to cock sure.
If I lost this game my life,
Would never indure.
So there the fight for my life.
Not caring now what was Wrong, or Right?
With a cold heart I said you's black!
So's I'll's take white!
How in this game? I was tired, I was bored.
My attack in chess, flashing tongue, were swords.
Because in the beginning, I had tried to be kind,
And now surprised, at how much hate,
How it had been planted in my mind.
So I played this game seven to one.
I moved rook, then a pawn,
I put black on the run.
I showed what their game had done?
What it was like to hate!
I rose slamming my qween an, check, moe foe, mate!
I turned and picked up three hundred and twenty one.
Then I looked and said this game is boring.
I wanted some fun!
Who wanted to play a new game, of one on one?
To Martin Nelson Vigay this time, I'm chewing some.
I was mad, shaking all the way too my toes.
They saw my heart, no longer cool, but now
Ice cold froze.
They saw my desire, and hurt, in my eyes
I guess this time it was there, for they never lie!
Well six of them brothers all turned and run.
At last, Vigay alone, for a little one on one.
He knew with him I was moppen the floor.
To make damn sure, Click, I locked the door.
I had him alone and scared for the first time.
The blood and the floor was going to be his, not mine.
For I had in my hand a 36 inch wrench.
I wanted to put him over the pearl white fence.
But he raised a hand saying he was sorry, and what?
That he'd been wrong.
He saw my desire and hurt, my anger still so strong.
He said in this game, he'd been pushed to long.
He ask for forgiving, and wispered, he'd been wrong.
I shouted, never, would I forgive.
But dropping that wrench, I chose, I let him live.
I said Vigay! In Idaho I had never been taught
this kind of hate.
Because in life we must take action!
We must choose, create our own fate.
Then later on, few weeks and the day had turned to night.
Three of the brothers cornerd me, saying now were going to fight!
I looked for a door, But there stood Vigay?
I thought well shit?
Stepping towards his brothers, He just said hey!
He dropped the first one with a fist.
Saying Clyde's What's you's ya going's to do's
You's get's ones' But I get's two's
I'm asking, Have you ever fought for your freedom, or life?
I used everything trying to stop racisim and strife.
There I fought for freedom, and just so much more.
My eyes black, face split lips, body aching, sore.
But them three men, down at last on the floor.
Leaning over them Vigay stated.
Hate's and Racisim's don't's You's do's No's More's
Then he stepped over and jerked it open
Stepped a-side saying Please, Clyde's
Please You's first thrugh da door
I hopes yous' ok, and at me not to sore?
As we walked away that big arm rested, helping holding,
me up, there on my shoulder.
He must have said thirty or forty times.
That this day was the end.
And he wasn't let nobody's crap on me or him's again.
Because he now understood, , , , whom was -is friends.
poem by Clyde Bryson
Added by Poetry Lover
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