Through My Eyes


I go to school, isn't it obvious?

Sixteen year old girl with a backpack,

It's pretty clear to see.

I go to classes, then lunch, then class again,

Hop the bus, go home, do homework go to bed.

But if you look through my eyes

Just for a day,

I wonder what you'd see.

Through my eyes I see people,

Specifically of European descent. 

They're everywhere, and I'm used to it,

My eyes have adjusted to see only white.

I don't look at my naturally dark hair,

Or my tanned skin,

Because my eyes don't do that.

Heaven knows I'm Asian,

And I know it too.

But when all you see is white,

Without looking at yourself,

that's what you believe. 

What I believe.

When I see someone of color, 

It's like a beautiful, colorful paintdrop

On a white canvas.

In my eyes, 

It's different and stands out.

And then I realize that I am a paintdrop.

Just not through my eyes.


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741