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My White Daughter

My White Daughter

The two play like
sisters

Quy-Imah has braids
And is of a darker
hue

Kayla has blonde
hair
And eyes of Blue


In the back seat of
my car they play
Martin Luther King’s
dream
Just two feet away

Quy-Imah says, Hi
Daddy
Kayla copies, Hi
Daddy
(They both giggle)


I try to ignore
their childish
musings
Sisters by their own
choosing

No one could could
convince them
That they were any
different

Then my pessimism 

Start
to
Catalog

If they ever were to

Disappear or go
missing

My White Daughter
Would get FBI,
Helicopters
And a hundred
canines

My Black daughter
Would be lucky to
get a single dog

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