The Black Cat

[Inspired (now that's a bad word to use here:) by the attacks Down Under, and the movie American History X. If you like this poem, make sure you give the film a watch. It'll set your heart racing.]

"Black cats are unlucky,"
His grandmother said
To Derek, who sat listening
On his grandmother's bed;
"Nothing good comes about them." "But
That's just superstition," he told
Her. He was quite smart
For a nine year old.

"Black cats are unlucky,"
His teacher warned,
"They're a menace to society."
'Lil Derek scorned
Her warning, and to himself thought:
'That is a misconception.'
He wasn't ready to believe all her
Words without question.

"Black cats are unlucky,"
His friends advised,
"They're bound to bring harm."
And Derek surmised
They were saying this because
They were trained to say this,
By their biased parents
Blinded by prejudice.

On his way back from school,
Derek saw a black cat-
Alone- with such innocence
In his eyes that
They could have been friends
On any other day;
But what happened next
Wouldn't make it that way:

Around the cat, a dozen
Odd people gathered,
Showered him with blows- with
Sticks and kicks smothered;
The cat got beaten even
After he died
For the crowd stayed on
Till all were satisfied.

Derek wanted to run,
But on a whim,
He looked at his hands
And knew they wouldn't hurt him.
He also knew what they'd been
Saying was right:
"The black cat was unlucky." He'd got
Killed for not being white.