Is it my skin? Or is it me?



Why couldn’t I be white?
The skin I am in is one of beauty.
I love my tone, I love my hair.
I love my lips.
They do not love them.

Why couldn’t I be white?
I can go far into words about how unique we are.
My intellectual capability is no less inferior.
My skin has nothing to do with my attitude.
They never see that.

Why couldn’t I be white?
The tears of a black child are no different than a white child’s.
We have tears because we are broken.
We have dreams, fears, and love.
They don’t care.

Why couldn’t I be white?
I’m ignored when asking for help.
I’m ghetto because of my name.
I’m told by my own people that I am too dark.
They did this to us.

Why couldn’t I be white?
My skin color is ugly. I remind them of waste.
I hate my tone. My hair is too short.
My lips are baboon lips.
This is what they tell you.

Why couldn’t I be white?
I’d never have to worry about fitting in within my own culture.
I’d wouldn’t have to worry about my home.
Teachers would pass me when I cheat.
I’d shoplift just for the heck of it.
Why would it matter anyway? better than some black woman spending those welfare checks.

Why couldn’t I be white. just for a day. Maybe I’d read my own poem just so it wouldn’t be ignored.

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