They call me D boy. We don’t get names, distinctions, or capital letters.

I think the D stands for diesel, But it really stands for dreams,

I sell your dreams, because the second you

Hand me a 20, your dreams are mine

Because you don’t dream when you don’t sleep

When your trying to fix what’s not fucking broken.

But, it’s not my fault.

Because I live in a world,

That tells you that black lives matter but hispanics sell drugs.

And hispanic is a word used because white people can’t tell the difference

Between a puerto rican and a mexican or a cuban and someone from spain

But you can’t call a Jamaican African because black lives matter.

So I sell brown things, in the desert because people with money decided brown goes with brown.

They call me D Boy because, most people get a name. I don’t have one.

I get a letter, because I don’t have an identity, because

The world most see is either two toned or colored.

No room for brown/

We don’t exist. We get no revolution. We assimilate.

We become Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.

It’s funny, she has the name of a murderer.

He slaughtered an entire civilization.

So when you see me, on the corner.

Remember I hold a back-pack because only white and black carry suitcases.

Brown stays outside.

Because we, I don’t exist.

All lives matter. Get it right. So brown children can see their father’s instead of having them get shot on street corners selling things for black and white leaders,

While brown people die in the third world.

All lives matter. And dogs are smarter then humans, because they can’t see color.

It’s funny isn’t it? Seeing like a color-blind dog. Must be great to live in America.

Not for her.

Her picture is not on here because she doesn’t exist. not to them.