being attacked by blacks again

... in one of my previous writings, I described how I, a
white guy, have been attacked by blacks over the years

... first, stabbed in high school by a gang of blacks
trying to rob me, then later in the Navy, surrounded in the
shower by a gang of 8 blacks who threatened me

... now I guess it's 3 strikes you are out, because recently
a black ex-army guy with PTSD came to live on the farm

... he walks around with a loaded M4, a 45 cal side arm,
and a big knife, which he likes to flash as he utters threats
to scare everyone into submission

... the first sign of trouble was he killed my dog, then he
had the nerve to ask for my dog food stash, to feed his dog

... he was pissed because the dog, who was here for years
before he ever arrived, sometimes pooped near his camp

... he killed the dog for taking a dump

... then someone tampered with my walker, which I need to
walk with, pulling loose some screws. I know it was him,
probably done in the night, when he prowls around

... I let it all slide, you know turn the other cheek

... but today, I had to confront him when he came knocking
on my door and wanted part of my rice supply. Now, if he
was a poor hungry peasant, I probably would have given him
some rice, but he is not.

... he gets 5 times my meager monthly income, and drives
a shiny new red pickup truck. Not only that, he collects food
stamps too.

... I immediately saw that he was trying to make me his
bitch, in prison slang, and he was going to take whatever
he wanted from me

... I refused and told him I don't provide welfare around
here and to go away. He replied calling me an asshole and
he asked me if I wanted to die. I just yelled GO AWAY!

... then he cuts the power line to my trailer with his knife

... the land owner has intervened, and I made repairs, but it
looks like I will have a few sleepless nights worrying about
him and his M4 assault rifle

... his name is Rasheed, but he calls himself Top, and he
claims to be some sort of superior warrior-king, a Sith Lord
of the 11th degree in the Masonic Order

... some superior warrior-king, picking on an old man in a
walker, as his prey. I'm twice his age.

... so, more sleepless nights as this Zoloft-fueled black man,
with PTSD, utters threats my way

... he bitches that I think I'm superior to him, but I think
I am superior, because at least I don't throw temper
tantrums and cut power lines when someone dosn't let him
rip them off

... I try not to be a racist, but what are you going to do
when you are repeatedly harrassed by black men? 3 strikes
you are out, right?

... I'm not rich, and never was, but I will not give up anything
to a low life who tries to take from crippled old people,
especially when he gets 5 times my monthly income, and drives a truck

... Lord Kalka, please drop the bomb right on this farm, and
I will be happy to die, just to see this low-life black killer destroyed

no copyright, 2016 by zentara
If it is the last words I utter, let it be Hare Krishna