By The Contours Of My Character

Judgement and speculations 
Have always been passed over me
Always been placed on me
By family 
By friends
By people I don't even know
Why is this? 
Is it because my skin is a luscious brown
That I hold my head high and claim
In your mind you have this picture of who I should be
But not of who I am
Loud, Rambunctious ,Loquacious  , Sanguinary 
Is what you see 
But pull back the curtain and see what I really contain 
Intelligent, Mature, Old Soul , Compassionate
You have passed judgement on me because of your folly to think that a stereotype is who I am 
You don't even know my name
You don't even know my age
You couldn't even tell me what my eye color is
All you have seen is the boundary .
Our social 
My skin.
But yet someone had a dream 
They had a dream that you'd take the curtains of our skin and remove them
See what's behind it all
See that it's all the same,
Veins , muscles , tissue 
Thick red blood 
A pounding heart
A mind 
A beautiful soul
All the same.
So see me not as the color of my skin
But as the contours of my character .
Poetry Slam: 


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