When I was born I was a pretty light skin baby,

Nice mocha when I hit the age of 5,

but as you can see I am now what most would call a beautiful, chocolate 

Nubian princess,

With black pride,

In a classroom full of black children

We are taught that black pride is something we are born with,

That black pride is something

We should all have because we were granted with something that others do not have,

Something that can never be take from us,

like our skin,

Skin talks,

i just wish it would shut up sometimes,

i can’t even wear what i want 

let alone stand without being judged,

i can’t talk with my friends without being stared at, 

Or told that my volume level is a little too loud for your precious hears to handle,

yet a whisper seems so suspicious to those around listening

why are you listening?

My skin talks,

It says a lot about a person,

Where they're from, 

What they will become,

Whether you feel comfortable around them or safe when they walk pass your car,

As you unconsciously reach towards that lock button when someone of a different shade 

treads a little too close for your comfort,

In society black pride gets you locked up in a jail cell or shot down in cold blood,

#blacklivesmatter is a black persons chant for a better future

that we hope and pray to see,

I raise my arms towards the sky and kneel before the gun

pointed towards me since birth,

waiting for that unknown face to pull the trigger, 

as I look up, close my eyes, never once pleading to the shooter

"Why?"

Because i already know the answer,

Black pride,

is what you have but can not see, 

it is something I was told I should be proud of,

Like a burden that's mine to carry around,

I hide it in my arms

cradling it like a new born, fresh from its mothers womb,

hoping that the wrong person does not see it and judge me, 

Black pride,

Others show it off like a brand new scarf or a gold crown and are killed for it, 

I have something precious yet dangerous

Black pride is what I was born with,

I have what cannot be seen, 

A Blood stained street with a white chalk outline 

can not be wore, 

but it can be remembered, 

Black pride,

no remorse shown,

no justice achieved,

so when #blacklivesmatter is said

Do not compare the feeling of one child’s death 

to the long years of suffering 

brought about, 

Because even then,

Black Pride

could not be shielded, 

"What should I tell my son, years from now?"

that he should not look at an officer because that may be the one that takes from him the life that i gave to him,

Because of his black pride,

And I will not, can not explain to my daughter that there are those out there wanting to hurt her in ways that i can not, will not explain,

Not because she is not, 

But because I am not ready for her to have that burden,

Black Pride,

Is what they will have, 

I will make sure that they know not to be afraid, 

Because black pride is a burden, 

yes,

but it is also a blessing