I’m mad that I have to explain
I’m sad that you woke up late
To the truth of my life
That you think you know well now?
Oh ? Better than me now
So you the bitter me now
Marathon triathlon to the oppression ribbon, aw
Walking walking fast now
You looping me now
Around my
ouch!
You round my pain now
But would u ever come inside
Blow on the scars
As the pain burns out
Black is black in the inside too
White hues still fight on the outskirts of my blues
You like …
colloquialism
Period sis
Black to you is styling isms
Black screens
Art that never made it to your heart
the book that reads you
Reciting my struggles made for a loud life
Progressive minds seem to forget where they were under the hood of rampant thoughts
Keeping score, A for audacious
But
;
My Activism is Waking Up Black
Your Acting ism ??? (is mmmm????)
trying to be Black
No matter the lines
White still cracks
Paled performance
Please Stop the show
Before I stop and show
You,
The role you play
real-life awaits
In the wake of the fake
That’s why, I
burn bridges, to smoke some feelings
Roll one to Fuck their expectations
Role too maybe I can be it
Rolled three, crashed & ashed into my wishes
Of being
Me:without
The pain - black
.excellence
The tear - drip
. perfection
The blood - still red
.sacrifice
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.