I am one of them and I know how it goes

Walk into a room and it becomes still

Frozen in time and space

Whispers all around

Snarky remarks, “Terrorist” “Bomb in her back pocket”

A nasty glance here and there

The awareness of being judged slowly creeps up my spine

Forming goose bumps along my pale skin

How long will this last?

I wish I could change it

I don’t think I belong here

Like a four-leafed clover in a field of daisies

I don’t think I belong here

 

Possessing the great power to change anything,

My first thought, racism nonexistent

Erase this judgmental society’s ability to label

Based on the color of their skin

Or the language they speak

Or the scarf wrapped around their hair

 

My peak desire

To walk into a room without feeling uneasy or judged

Wondering if I belong here,

I can smile and say

“I belong here”