Learn more about other poetry terms
People like me and you need to stick together I assure you the hate we get ain’t getting better Making a child is normal between a man and a woman
Love is love, but we frown upon certain kinds. I remember when I was scared to let the world knowthe kind of love that I like. Hiding a relationship...Four years to be exact. Hurting myself and my partner.
The Birch Tree In The Storm
Does the color of my skin fill you with fright? Have you genuinely been fooled by all of those absurd stereotypes? I'm merely a friend when mommy and daddy are within eyesight.
I feel like an outcast Does not help that all the bashing is making the flames higher Then they say that I am the one to blame for the fire And this same song is getting tired
Why must we hide Why must we apologize Why must we be criticized For who we are inside I see no reason to lie People are monsters Hating those who just want To love
Your black hair, your black skin, Everything is so beautiful to me. Your large hands are soft, and
The other day one of my friends said to me "Jaz...you have no idea how many guys check you out whenyou walk by. I found that really intersting. Considering that here, int he Midwest I don't feel beautiful.
Who are you to judge who I love? Who I kiss and who I hug? Why are you judging who puts a smile on my face? Would you be happier if the one I loved was a different race?
Friends for almost ten years
He helps her forget her pastShe helps him see his future
What you see is what you get. What you see I don't get, you look but you don't see. you know where I be, but you do not know me! you see black and you see white, you think what you might.
Mistaken Always shaken We move because we're told But it's getting old Tired of these rules The tools They say, the tools to life To growing and succeeding To living and competing Jump, run, and go They say it but really though What do they mean
Why can't I be your friend? Why can't white and black blend? Why did I break your heart? Why did my faith in you fall apart? Did you ever want to agree? Were you ever going to succeed?
Every grain of sand fallen, Is an eternity. Sand better off lost. No matter the pitfalls. Intolerance… Produced as a result of the tone set by one’s skin.
I’ll be your Haitian pride, Your plantain princess, Your golden goddess, Your afro-ed queen, Your point of joy and pride, Your want your belief, your belief, your everything