The Real Me

I am an immature 16 year old, but that's not me 

I am black, beautiful and love the way I look, but that's not me

I am a female who's usually looked at as lesser than a male, but that's not me

I am an athlete, you know, the typical status that teens want to have, but that's not me 

I have curly, coarse hair which is sometimes hard to tame that I love so much,  but that's not me

So who am I?

I am a vicious lion who hasn't eaten in a week

So hungry for success and won't stop until I achieve it

I am the sun around five o'clock in the morning 

rising above the horizon, ready to brighten people's day and won't stop rising until it happens

I am a teacher and a learner

Learning a variety of information everyday and enlightening others with the information I now know 

But I am also a seesaw 

sometimes at a negative slope at that given moment, and sometimes at a positive slope

I am only human

sometimes want to give up, sometimes feel like I am not accepted, sometimes feel like a minority

That's the real me.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
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