written in 2015
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I see you on my timeline And I don’t know what to say I see your statuses Talking disrespectful everyday Your pictures are provocative Your attitude is something else It seems like you’re lost
Dear God: Why was I born with a heart condition? Why did you let my parents’ divorce when I was at the ripe age of two? Why did you allow me to trust so much that I was easily misled as a child?
I’m tired of more than just the everyday issues. I’m tired of living a life covered in infamously unappreciated Black skin that so many people covet because it’s cool.
So I’m sitting at the bus stop reminiscing About how the world seemed so innocent In my childhood, I had a limited understanding of how the world worked at the time
Here it goes My name has been called No, not by my pessimistic professors, Not by my mother’s irritation. It’s being called by a higher being You see, I am but a small piece
I rejected the cure Used to the sickness Comfortable with impure Not looking for redemption I was tired of looking frail Called lame by many I rejected the cure Proposed by plenty