Spoken word. Created March 2018.
Let’s talk about being black,
Cuz’ race does matter,
Though I rather talk about the tears and tatters,
And why society shatters.
But I digress,
Race does matter.
Am I black?
I can see you shift in your seats,
While I ask you that.
Am I black?
Cuz’ I feel like negro,
Who doesn’t know racial struggles,
Someone who forgot those hardened chains,
My ancestor's pain,
And the equality that I have gained.
You may ask why fret over this past?
If you feel separated-segregated,
Then why don’t you talk?
Talk about my empty chains,
My institutionalized brain,
And the unblackness that I have faced.
But I can’t talk.
Only talk around.
Around and around,
Till’ the sun goes down,
Cuz’ I’m black.
Hatred fills all around,
And I get mad every time,
A white person says and frowns,
“Oh, that's sad, slavery was terrible all around,”
I say, “I know.”
And I think,
Maybe if it was two-hundred years back around,
I’d be on the getting whipped,
By your ancestors all around.
And I might be getting raped on the ground,
Cuz’ I was askin’ for it.
But I smile,
Even though I’m hostile,
‘Cuz I really don’t wanna seem volatile.
Don’t wanna be that angry black person,
Who’d be screaming for miles,
Cuz’ a white person tried to emphasize with our trials.
But what do I know about being black?
I’m a middle-class white girl,
Who likes Starbucks, right?
A little OREO,
Who doesn’t know anything, right?
Someone who tries to act white,
So they don’t have to fight.
But Imma fight for my blackness,
Till’ that's all I got,
Cuz’ my unblackness is all I ever thought.