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by Pariah
Rated: E · Poetry · Biographical · #1553845
translating what you are into your face isn't always useful
My momma called me the other day
askin' me why
I associate black
call myself black
live black

"Cause you're not black baby
Not only
I mean you are
but you're me too baby
right?"

And I am you too momma
and I don't want to preach momma
I know you don't understand
Please don't let your blue eyes cry
I know how much sweat
    came off your lily white skin
to let me be who I am
I know where I come from
I know where i stand
my privilege
my success
come from you momma

And to you I'm just your baby
and I'm beautiful

I don't mean to hurt you
or cripple your pride
but the world doesn't see me with your blue eyes

They see a check in a box
and a color solution
a biracial infiltration
still deserving of hatred
and I remain nameless
just another dark realization
of something outside of "us"

I can't be you momma
this world won't let me
I check away your protection
and all your directions
all the world becomes a skeptic
when they see a white selection
cause sometimes what other people think
really does matter
their perceptions leaving messages
embedded on my consciousness
I'm supposed to be better than this
but in the end
I still can't check your white box momma
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