Caucasian

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My skin. Look at my skin. What am I? I am a mixed girl in a obscure world. When I would play on the playground. Small, this high, my wide eyes didn’t yet recognize the lies.
I do not live to appease anyone. Why do you categorize me? Why is my appearance labeled, Am im not good enough for “Your” society? Why does the color of my skin designate what school district im welcomed in?
Heart Poundng Red Blood Inhales, Exhales
BLACK By David Harris   So many times I’ve heard, “You don’t act black”, And to this day I still don’t understand, How does one act a color? Do I be decrepit, ugly, or dark?
Something dangerous lurks in the shadows It’s gangling grotesque figure lets out an eerie cry of warnings Night after night Hiding it’s sunburned flesh It creeps in the shadows I’m afraid of the dark
I, myself, draw the line. Neither bounded by chains or by reckless thoughts, flooded by the ignorance of those unaware of my flow. Is it the way that I speak which inflicts fear on Man?
Character Deep within the focal point of your exterior lies character. Character yet to be defined, Character that has ceased to be be intertwined...
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