I wish I could tell you Who I Am? But I’m still in the process of figuring that out You know, that magical thing that tells you what I’m about I carry pain from my Mother’s abandonment I carry anger from my Father’s indiffernce I carry doubt from my culture’s Ideals But I am not doubtful of my abilities I’m not angry over the past I’m not riddled with pain over things I can’t change What am I? I’m judged by our men for not giving Into their pressure for sex I’m judged by women for being to thin and not letting In all their drama and mess I’m judged by black people for trying to stress “We can do anything.” But I don’t give in and I have been called a bitch once or twice I might roll my eyes at another sister not caring if she’s nice Black people don’t want to hear what I’ve got to say I’ll amplify the mic In that aspect, I know who I am.
What I don’t know is my place in this world
I know I’m not just another black girl that can’t make it
I don’t want to fake it
I want it to be real
So I can instill lessons in my daughter
That were never taught to me
About looking inside and discovering
“WHO YOU WANT TO BE.”
And letting the entire world see
You picked a destination
It wasn’t without complications
But was reached by pure determination
So, What am I?
A strong black woman who loves words
To think racism could stop me, I find absurd
We need to stop the excuses
And start en-acting verbs
GET a job
BUY a house
TEACH your children
INVEST in your future
CLEAN out our neighborhoods
VOTE our principles
I guess that’s who I am!!
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