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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.

But really,

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.

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