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When I was younger I use to think that something was wrong with my skin,I would shower 4 times a day,Scrubbing extra hard and using extra soap thinking that some dirt would come off,
                                                    The color of my skin                                            a beautiful brass shining like a blinding star
When you look at me what do you see  What do you think  Do you see my darker skin  And think she’s dumb or commits a great deal of sin Do you see my kinky, coily hair 
My depression is like I’m swimming through a deep darkness Thick and black like oil My airways are blocked Panicking desperately to reach the surface But an anchor chained to my left foot
I am not a genius I have wished to be Wanted to be But am left knowing I am not I have focused on what I’m not Read of those called genius Thought of how to be Yet was not born to be
The genius of a person,  Is something so small,  Yet is so big. Genius is not found in beauty,
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