A few years back someone asked me “why do you act so white?” 
After a moment of hesitation I simply responded “but I’m black…” 
Later I then thought to myself “am I really black or am I white?” 
I had to see for myself 
I did a self-evaluation 
I thought 
I do occasionally like to wear collared, button up shirts. 
So then, I must be white. 
Then again, come to think of it I can jump pretty high. 
So, I must be black. 
I’m not the best dancer. 
So this has got to make me white. 
I do like listening to Gucci mane and lil Wayne. 
So I’m probably black 
But I like to listen to Journey and John Mayer. 
Which makes me white. 
Also I know both of my mother and father. 
Which would also make me white. 
People often double take at me in a store. 
So, I’m black. 
I do use the n word sometimes to refer to some of my friends. 
So Ive gotta be black. 
Finally I just got tired, gave up and said to hell with it. 
So, you answer. 
Am I black or am I white? 



This poem was purely inspired by stereotypes. As an African American male I express them through this poem (good and bad). I portray the speaker as having a guilible personality therefore believing all these stereotypes and not really having a sense of identity of himself.

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