I am constantly faced with the question:


"What are you?"


Because I am not White enough

To sit with the cool kids

But I’m not Black enough to chill with the crew


"What are you?'


They ask me where I’m from

Who my parents are

What language I speak

They look at me with eyes that know all

Though I have yet to say a thing

But the question is not


"What are you?"




"Who are you?"


I am me;

I play basketball on the weekends

I go to the mall with my girlfriends

I try my hardest in school but

Some days I don’t want to be there

I love to try new styles on my hair

I read books and listen to music

I like to sing alone, strong and clear  

I bleed

I cry

I get sick

And one day I will die

Just like every other human


"Who am I?"


Well I thought I told you my name

Don’t look at me like I am some exotic creature

‘Cause I too feel pain

When you try to fit my puzzle piece

In the wrong space

Too light to fit in the photo

Of the night sky

Too dark to fit in the photo

Of a cream pie

You act like I have no place


Well take a new photo

One of a warm cafe latte

Or a soft sandy beach

Or even a tray of freshly baked cookies

Put my puzzle piece there

Call it a masterpiece

Because that is the real me

You cannot tell me

That I belong to this side or that

‘Cause I am in my own class

Take it

Respect it

Look closely

And See


“What are you?”


I am Me.




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