You call me uncivilized, yet mine was one of the first civilizations in the world.
You call me uncultured, yet my culture stretches back thousands of years, my paintings and pots and sculptures and clothes spread across the globe.
You call me savage, yet you brandish guns and shoot without question, fight without feeling.
You call me underdeveloped, yet I made the paper you write your decrees upon.
You call me helpless, yet I was only overtaken because you were too cowardly to come alone.
You call me weak, yet you are the one who came to me for supplies.
You call me stupid, yet it is my people who built a wall large enough to stretch for miles.
You call me cruel, yet you were never invited, so why shouldn't I throw you out?
You call me dirty, yet you are the one raping me.
You call me dramatic, yet it is your actions that draw my tears.
You call me sensitive, yet you are the one forcing my reactions.
You call me uncultured, yet my culture stretches back thousands of years, my paintings and pots and sculptures and clothes spread across the globe.
You call me savage, yet you brandish guns and shoot without question, fight without feeling.
You call me underdeveloped, yet I made the paper you write your decrees upon.
You call me helpless, yet I was only overtaken because you were too cowardly to come alone.
You call me weak, yet you are the one who came to me for supplies.
You call me stupid, yet it is my people who built a wall large enough to stretch for miles.
You call me cruel, yet you were never invited, so why shouldn't I throw you out?
You call me dirty, yet you are the one raping me.
You call me dramatic, yet it is your actions that draw my tears.
You call me sensitive, yet you are the one forcing my reactions.
But the moment I call you the same things, you cry foul and the world is at your aid. So for now, I keep silent. Because one day I will arise. And you'll never call me again.