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Media Factory
Flash, Flash
the light has consumed me yet again
it seems the television has created me
every time I turn the channel
I see my face on the cadaver and it makes me want to scream
then, they draw my face with a weapon
and call me the villain
the media has portrayed a false mirror image upon me
and for years
it has seeped deep within my skin,
darkening my complexion,
creating color
I am judged without the knowledge of my deepest fear,
my highest cheer
so whenever I speak,
my words fall upon deaf ears
my attributes were assumed before I even grew bones
scientists say that everyone is unique
but in many naive minds, all blacks are just clones
stepping the same footsteps
and going through the movements of the factory
I wonder if I were to step out of line
would the media know what to do?
or just stand there without a clue?
would they claim me?
praise me?
or slay me too?
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