*Disclaimer* I wrote this before healing. My view still remains the same except, before healing, white people were easy targets. That is not right. It is how I felt.
where is this place with limited space
this demon has rode my back before
how many times will I let it ride
I am getting so tired
do I have to change me
for you to let me be
I am misunderstood
I never thought I would
be here again
thought I had grown above this
I need relief quick
when will I take a stand
get me a plan
and proceed beyond this
time to make choices again
between darkness and your face
I need to stand on faith
believe in myself
why am I required to reinvent me
to be what others want
conforming to their needs
fitting into their plan
molding me to be whatever suits them
I need to eat
but I cannot breathe
with your hands around my neck
choking out anything that doesn’t resemble you
things you’re uncomfortable with
offensive to you
because they make you see your own ugly
get your foot off my back
why are you trying to stomp out the glaring reality
of what you are
you pretend to be a star
but inside you epitomize darkness
take your fingers out of my eyes
you can’t put out my light
or take out my fight to continue to be me
you failed to realize that I am a proud black woman
you thought I was from the school of yes sir massa
whatever you say I will do
you thought my life and livelihood depended on you
I hope now you recognize, that I am not the one
to bow down unto you as if you bring up the sun
couldn’t you tell by the look in my eyes
that I was not going for your lies
I smiled and laughed at your tired ass jokes
because my mama taught me how to be polite
you thought because I worked so hard
much harder than any white
that you could walk on me
use me up and expect me to shut up and put up
now you see what I really am
and your fear makes you retaliate
whether conscious or unconsciously
you think you deserve the best
and then you throw me your scrapes
on, on and on
not this black woman
the breath I breathe and the very life I live
was not a sorry gift from you
I know now you are just too through with me
I am making you get a glimpse of your ugly
and all this time you call yourself white
when your heart full of hateful superior intentions is black as night
because I speak up for myself and still do my work you are confused
you thought I had that slave mentality
when I called you on your racism to your face
told me I was out of place
you obviously do not recognize
that my place is in your face
anytime you flaunt your race as better than mine
it shocked you when I wouldn’t conform
rejected your standard of beauty
and strutted my own
your questions and remarks were ridiculous
do I wash my hair
do you wash your ass is what I should have asked
because it was smelling from all those lies
and pasted on smiles
don’t you get tired
of playing like you smart
are you ever going to get tired
of claiming everything you got
from the sweat and strength of our backs
I worked hard cause that is what is in me
I do not need you to be strong
you saw to that
the survival of the fittest is where I am from
the cream of the crop
top of the line
can’t get no better than this
that is why you are always trying to impress
me with your red burnt tan and curly hair
if I am so bad why are you trying my flair
don’t you see I do not care
how much you try to be like me
cause you will never ever be me
I am from royal blood
my ancestors numbered the stars
your heritage is so weak that you rob others and call it yours
you say columbus discovered america
how can you come into my house and claim it as yours
and then take my people and build it up with our blood
your ancestry is perverted
why are you so shocked that this country is so violent
oooing and ahhing when your children shoot up each other
is not that what you have taught them
when you cannot get others to do what you want
with manipulation and lies, all the time smiling
you kill them
is not that how america was built
not beautiful but profane
still trying to convince us that god
has shed her grace on this mess
where the good at so I can be the first
to crown them with brotherhood
from filthy polluted sea to filthy polluted sea
by mozayik the souls’ poet
1999
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