Men in white hoods gathered for the night,
Torches laying the boundary,
A wooden platform presenting the lead.
A rally was just to begin.

One by one,
Each stood up.
They said their pledge.
Then donated some money.

Then the leader stood upon them,
“Who do we target for this month?”
Queers!
Jews!
Blacks!
No,
No,
We done all that.

People shouted answers.
Nobody knew.
Then one said
“Why not we paint ourselves blue,
Then we can do us too!”

They all looked at him,
And with unity,
Shouted,
“Oh, shut up!”

They kicked him out of the ring,
He went behind the stage.
He took a whiz,
On a melon underneath him.

He noticed the green round thing.
Picking it up,
He knocked on it.
He exclaims
My, my, my,
A nigger’s dream!

And the melon grew a face.
Red eyes peering at the hooded face.
The mouth revealed it’s inner grace.
A scream let out,
And the melon jumped out.
Then kissed the hooded man
And ate his face.

The others around,
Heard the shrieking sound.
They rose up and sally to the ground.

They found the body,
Saw nobody.
They couldn’t place as to what happened.

One picked up the watermelon next to the body,
And with a jest,
Said,
Maybe the melon ate him.

And,
In that moment,
The melon sprung onto his head.
Then with a gulp,
The head was clean off.

The melon was no match
For the fifteen men,
And smashed into mash.
Forever dead.

In victory,
They were confused.
What the hell was that,
They said.

Would they ever know?

Within the instance,
Many other melons rose out.
They rolled towards them.
Taking a foot,
Dropping a man.

They were all surprised by this,
But did not run scared.
They confronted it,
With their pitchforks and torches.

A melon took a foot,
A melon took a jugular.
One by one,
They dropped.

The hooded men were no match,
As each melon devoured each one.
A bloody bloodbath,
That noone would survive.

The melons rolled into a rally,
The leader took it’s position on the stage.
And spoke,

This is the end of racism as we know it.
We will drop one by one,
Until they know it.
They hunted every one else,
And else we shall hunt them.
For we come from space,
Enraged by the intolerance of the human race.
Prepare to kill,
To clean this place.

And thus,
The anti-racism melons traveled through out the human race.
Killing one by one,
Freeing all from prejudice,
Or forever be torn to bits,
By the round fruits at the store.