Woe is Black

Its been forever since I last wrote a poem or blog entry; I’ve been going through some personal stuff these last few months. But the recent Black Lives Matter protests had me break out of my uncreative prison and write a few words on what its like being born black in a world that is somehow opposed to you in many ways.

 

What is my crime outside being born black?
Immediately classed as ugly and subhuman
Let’s not forget stupid
All because of my dark brown skin
A reminder of pain
Inflicted on those that came before me

 

Forget the fact that I speak your lingo fluently
Or that I am as educated as most of you
I am still simply that ugly black thing to you
Unworthy of recognition for my achievements
Expected to remain at the back of the bus

 

Loathed by your kind and looked at with disgust by mine
Because I am too dark
And apparently trying to be you.
My traits are of no importance to you…
I will always be “smart for a black” to you
A better black – like something you can play with
But never respect

 

Fated to be harassed, followed when I go shopping
Even asked if I am sure I can afford xyz when I pick an item
Just as a Muslim is suspected to be a terrorist,
A black man is the devil

Rapist, thief, murder, burglar, alcoholic and criminal …
And many more labels added for good measure and your entertainment
Simply because of my skin
And with very little opportunity given
I become the labels you pasted on me

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