My Black

Mon, 10/30/2017 - 08:34 -- Kacia

The color of my skin has caused a lot of people to hate me

The dark brown reflection in my eyes is abhorred.

I walk along the paved streets only to be discriminated against

I walk into the stores and I am watched.

I try to be polite, but I am only received with frowns.

They hate me because of the tone of my skin.

I am whipped with the stares of the superior

They see me as inferior because I am dark.

I feel stepped upon when I am in public

I feel them grip their purses when I come around

I feel them move away from my presence so as not to catch my blackness,

But you cannot catch something that is not contagious.

You cannot catch the disrespect, the loudness, the attitude, the vulgarness of my people

Because that seems to be the only aspects of my people that others see.

My presence won’t influence you to smoke, to kill, to rob.

Just because you stereotype those wrongs on me does not mean I accept them.

I do not accept the hood culture you place on me because I was raised poor

I do not accept the disrespect I receive because I have a ghetto name.

I do not accept the name callings because my people were once enslaved.

I do not accept the discrimination because my hair is nappy.

I do not accept the inferiority in the workplace because I am considered dunce because I am black.

I do not accept the bigotry against my belief in God because your beliefs are different.

I do not accept the prejudice against my dating life because you prefer the opposite color.

I do not accept those authorities who bend the rules just to take me in their custody.

I do not the killings of my people.

I will never accept the intolerance against the color of my black.

Being black isn’t what I am trying to be, it is what I am, so I accept my black.

I love my black.


This poem is about: 
My community
My country


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