Ask Me Again: What Am I?

Yes, I am Black

Does that make me a thief, or a killer?

We’ve been predisposed to this notion

that being BLACK is dangerous

Being BLACK

Has placed a target on my back

Not knowing if I will live another day

Not knowing if my kids will even grow up

Being BLACK

Has sparked the continuance of racism

Slavery might have ended in 1834

But white folks still treat us like,

Like we are nothing compared to them

Martin Luther King Jr, once said,

“I have a dream”

What about my dreams?

What about my aspirations?

Will I DIE before I get to complete them

Like he DIED, giving our people a voice

A voice that needed to be heard

A voice that shed light onto inequality

Being BLACK

doesn’t make me any less of a person than you

Being BLACK

doesn’t give you the right to kill me

... To end my life

We might have different skin colors

We might not look the same

but my blood bleeds red and so does yours

BLACK is a color

Just as much as it is a shade

I did not choose to be BLACK

But it chose me

Because being BLACK

Means we’ve fought our battles

Means we always come out stronger

Means we stick together

Means that we will rise together

BLACK is a shade

But White is too

We may be on two opposite sides of a spectrum

But we are all just shades of broken society

Does the color of my skin change who I am as a person?

Does it make me any less of a human being than you?

How dare you treat me like I am any different

As we aren’t two shades on the same spectrum

BLACK and white, white, and BLACK

Slightly separated by grey

Grey is supposed to be common ground

It’s supposed to be a place where we find peace

Ask me again, what am I?

Yes, I am BLACK

I was born BLACK

Just as much as I will die BLACK