I am not dark skin.
I am the sound of deep cognition.
I am the voice of thought-provoking composition.
So, if you feel like you are fiending just to stay and listen;
Yo—I wouldn't even blame you, be it that I am dope's definition.

I am conscious thought.
Therefore, I am a mind distraught;
Seeing my brothers and sisters dim themselves to less than the stars which many escaped slaves sought.

I am a child of strong ancestry;
Who strides in their skin—the color of bravery.
I am the hope that rose from slavery
As foretold by Mr. Booker T.

I am the many tears from the lies
Of stereotypes that don't realize
That I am the truth.
I am me.
Malcolm was slain so that I could be.

Langston bruised and, heart, heavy with hurt
Doubted the power of his praying words
But I am living result of cries heard.
Yes, I am the flight of Maya's caged bird.

I am the nightmare of J. Edgar Hoover,
Because I am the dream of Martin King Junior

I am foolish.
I am flawed.
I am not quick to give someone my all.
But I am victory.
I know my promise.
I know who I am
Because I know who God is.
Therefore, I am erasing society's brand
Because everything I'm not has made me everything I am.
And clearly?
I am not just dark skin.