Right Country, Wrong Skin

My mother has green eyes

They still call me a negro

She has straight hair too

But they still call me a clicker


My father has skin that’s black like cocoa

They call me an N.L.B.

He’s got eyes the color of soil

But they still call me snow-white


Some tell me to ignore it

How can I?

I can’t even fill out two boxes on a standardized test

We’re sorry, you can only check one


Oh, that eyeshadow doesn’t go with your eye color

Uhm, that lipstick does not match your skin tone

Oh, okay can you find me a product that matches my every feature?

I don’t think so

Then get the hell out of my face, and let me choose what I please

Pardon me for not being what you want


Oh my god, does that white woman have two black kids?

Did he kidnap those two white angels?

Oh child, why don’t you relax your hair? It wouldn’t be so nappy lookin’

Why did you straighten your hair? You’re not one of us, stop trying to be


My hair draws attention

White people wanna touch it

Black people wanna change it


My lips are too big, my skin gets too ashy, I can’t get a date because my skin tone’s too nasty


I was never asked if I wanted copper skin

I was just born into a world, where I can’t possibly fit in

My skin is to light or my skin is to dark

And every day that tears me apart


Regardless I am strong, and I know you can’t tell

But my behind my smile my skin makes my life hell


This poem is about: 
My country
Our world


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