How Dare You

How dare you look at me? Then have the nerves to say I ain’t black. You judge me by the style of my clothes, And the sound of my voice, Lumping me in some other’s group. My ancestors born and raise in the same continent, Till snatched away from home, And thrown into a foreign land. Their identity was stolen, Bodies were marked, Some black as night, All suffered centuries of hardship, To rise up from their ashes, And prove their doers wrong. Their blood runs through my veins, They are forever a part of my life. How dare you listen to the rhythm of my music, The passions of my dreams? Then tell me I ain’t right. I come from a generation hated for who they were, I walk through the streets with the same exterior as you, Receiving stares and comments, All that is no different than yours. Every day I am reminded who I am, Where I came from, And what I can or cannot do. Yet still you do the same as them, And write me off as some sort of oreo.